


The Lark Ascending

by Veilder



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Original Work
Genre: (Ngl this is pretty experimental), A bit of purple prose never hurt anyone, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Characters are Kept Purposefully Vague, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, DBH Rarepairs Week, Drama & Romance, Elemental AU, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Families of Choice, Good Parent Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), No human names/terminology, One (1) Piece of Artwork, Other, Poetry, Prompt: Fantasy, RK Bros 4 Life, The opposite of a slow burn. One of them is literally on fire, Unrelentingly Descriptive, nature spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2020-10-18 05:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veilder/pseuds/Veilder
Summary: “How can you be real?”The River only smiled. “You would know if I were not, surely?”A huffed out laugh, a noise rusty with disuse, issued from the other. “Unless I have at last taken leave of my senses. Unless I see you only as a dream.”The River laughed, too. “Then we dream together, tiny spark. Then we dream together.”In a world inhabited by the personified forces of nature, a curious, young River Spirit lands himself in some very hot water, indeed. Now plagued with truths that shake the very foundations of his worldview, he, along with his family and friends, must work together to set right a wrong that has endured for far too long. In the Fire, he will find his answers. And perhaps... something more.(Formerly titledMorceaux de Fantaisie.)





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello! I'm back up here with some more Convin (and other pairing!) goodness, lol.
> 
> This whole idea came from the [DBH Rarepairs Week Event](https://dbhrarepairs.tumblr.com/post/186590424967/welcome-to-our-second-detroit-become-human) going on right now, specifically for one of today's themes, "Fantasy." I didn't plan on writing this much or creating a whole dang world and mythology but, well... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I would, as always, like to thank [alettepegasus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alettepegasus/works) and [karasgotagun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzmckay/pseuds/karasgotagun) for all their help and support with this. Y'all are the best, honestly. ♥
> 
> Now, onward! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edit 11/09/19: Since this story has progressed far beyond what I ever expected, I’ve decided that I really should update how I’m doing this. So I’ve edited the spoilers sections out from the chapters and will just include tags as needed from now on.
> 
> Edit #2 01/25/20: After much thought and deliberation, I have decided to change the title of this fic. When I started this off, Morceaux de Fantaisie seemed like a good title for a four chapter short fic. Well... It has ballooned out well past that and I feel like this new title fits the story as a whole much better. Thanks for understanding!

He lived in the rivers and the streams, the foam in the current, the undertow beneath. He meandered his way through teeming shoals of trout and perch, darting past the snails and the turtles and feeling the pebbles and moss skimming his feet where he alights. He rode through the rapids with glee, vaulting from rock to rock and down the singing cascades into the waiting pools below. He spun with the whirlpools, exhilarated by the speed of them. And when he at last laid himself to rest in the wading pool beside the glade, he reveled in the tadpoles tickling his limbs.   
  
"Had a good day I take it, eh, little wave?" the Boulder he had rested himself upon said, his rumbling voice causing ripples across the still water.   
  
The River grinned, splashing the back of his hand upon the other’s rocky shell. "A fine day, indeed, my sedentary friend. And you? Another _ thrilling _ evening of sinking more and more into the mud?"   
  
The Boulder chuckled, his song a cresting boom that sank the loose pebbles down into their watery midst. "Perhaps you might learn something if you managed to stay still for more than a moment, nymph."  
  
The River shrugged, unconcerned. "Like what, oh Lord of the One, Particular Spot? Share with me your wisdom!"  
  
The Boulder shifted to face him, the weathered lines of his face wreathed in mossy growth. "Wisdom? No. I ran out of that eons ago. But perhaps a warning, instead?"  
  
The River cocked his head to the side, brow furrowed in a splash across his placid features. "What warning?"  
  
"Danger, young one. In sight of us all." And then he stood, a rare occurrence, leaving the water to rush into the large void left behind. He rose and he towered, upwards and upwards, the Living Earth breaking and reforming. The River stared in awe, never having seen his friend move from his perch. But the Boulder — No! The... the Crag? — reached down, offering a hand to his young companion.   
  
The River grinned and hopped into his massive hand, a shallow pool forming around his feet even as the Crag carried him upwards.   
  
And then he saw It. The great Wood where he lived encased in an orange glow. Dark billows of smoke rose through the air as the land was consumed, all that was green and growing falling before the terrible power of Fire.   
  
The River had seen Fire before, small dots of orange light in the distance, larger blazes where Lightning struck, even an entire copse set alight. But he had never seen the likes of this, the hungry conflagration devouring all without care. He gulped even as he straightened his stance, for he felt he had nothing to fear; he was a child of Sea and Moon. What worry had he for the Fire's rampage?   
  
"I can see the thoughts of your untried head, little wave. Do not go near it. You may think you've nothing to fear, that your dominion would protect you, but a blaze this hot would boil you from the inside. It is dangerous, do you hear?"  
  
The Spirit nodded; he had heard, yes. The question was, would he take heed?  
  
It seems the Crag had much the same thought, even as he lowered the River back into his pool. "Please, have a care. I have seen much in my time. And you are young, too young to have borne witness to this tragedy before. I would not see you perish for your foolish curiosity."  
  
There was a dark and twisted sadness in the Crag's old face, the lines of heartbreak and terror carved like gouges upon his shell. And the River knew he spoke from experience. Perhaps even a personal loss. He stared back once more at where the dark smoke burned its way across his Father's domain, blotting out the stars with its hazy veil. And he turned back to the Crag, his dearest friend. "Yes. Yes, I promise."   
  
The soft sigh spoke of relief even as the stone reverberated. "Good. Very good, little wave. Then I will see you on the morrow." And with that, the Crag sank his weight back down, settling into the damp fissure left behind from his movement. And once more, he was the same Boulder of memory.   
  
The River drifted along his pool, the tadpoles undisturbed and uncaring of the whims of the Spirits around them. And as he settled himself back along the Boulder's broad back, he thought to himself, '_I__ promise that I will not perish from my foolish curiosity... But no more than that_.'  
  
He only waited til his Father was high above him before he drew back into the depths. He grinned to himself moving silently along the riverbed, making his way back upstream where the ashes rained down like snow and the scorched earth cried in despair.  
  
____________________  
  
  
The current flowed swift as the River ascended, journeying his way back through the white foam and the pounding cataracts. He moved swift and silent along the riverbed without a pause to splash among the shallows or spin amidst the eddies or pet the gleaming scales of the large bass that meandered by. He still had far to go this night if he were to sate his curiosity and he would not risk losing this rare chance for the sake of fickle distraction.  
  
But even in his hurry, he noticed something amiss: the woodsong was silent, no trace of nightingale or warbler or exuberant mockingbird. The thrushes were absent, the killdeer were hushed and the low, eerie calls of the herons were missing entirely. Not even the deep hoots of the owls could be heard. The chittering cicadas were likewise muted and the grasshoppers with their singing legs. No croak of the bullfrog shot through the night and the lightning bugs, those twinkling lights like those far up above, were missing. All along his banks where nocturnal life flourished, the absence of the woodland creatures was keenly felt. No deer or raccoon or timid shrew, no pack of wolves or mighty elk, not even the smallest field mouse came to lap at his banks.  
  
The River had never known fear before, nor the wariness that came with it, not from the safety of his Mother’s rocking waves or bathed in the serene light of his Father, above. But this silence, this _ stillness? _ Perhaps he might learn it here where the only sound left was his own babbling and the wind through the reeds.  
  
But continued he, despite his misgivings, on and up towards the blinding glow wreathing the night sky in shades of ochre and umber and deep, deep sienna, colors like the birds that had once fluttered above or the tiny, darting fish he has learned from his Mother's lap. The land grew more hazy as he passed and the smoke that had beckoned him with a promise of mystery now sat thick and heavy upon the land. Dense falls of ash rained down from the sky, singeing the earth before sputtering in the night air. The orange glow was growing ever closer, now. He could see the barest hint of flame through the foliage. The River skimmed the surface, watching as the ash was washed away by the current, tiny wisps of black curling their way through the water. He rounded one, final bend and—  
  
He arose from the water and beheld Devastation.  
  
The Blaze. The _ Inferno_. The Fire stretched its yawning hands further than he could tell, as if the world in its entirety had been set alight in its wake. The dense curtain of flame enveloped all, stretching high into the night sky as if to outshine the very Moon, himself.   
  
The very air crackled and spit and the River kept himself submerged against the onslaught, nothing but the top of his head peeking up beyond the banks. Even so, he felt the burn where the errant embers danced along his surface or where ash fell to cover him.   
  
The noise of the blaze was cacophonous and terrifying, the crackling of the wood, the snapping of burnt branches, the loud, percussive exhales of the flora's dying breath. All around him was the wailing of the Spirits, each one consumed by this seemingly-unstoppable force. But one scream far louder than the rest caught his ear.   
  
"No! No no, _ stop! _ This has gone on long enough! Relent! _ Curse you!_"   
  
It was a deep voice but one filled with anguish, the timbre of despair resolving in a rough, raspy exhale. He sounded close, this helpless being. Perhaps close enough for the River to help?   
  
He inched closer, bearing more of himself upwards and ignoring the stinging heat scorching his body to steam. But it was no mere woodland Spirit caught in the Fire's clutches. For there, in the very heart of the flame itself, a figure fought. He was bright, shining, incandescent, glowing white but for his edges and the noticeable criss-cross of wounds across his body where a vibrant orange played contrast. One solitary shadow stood out amongst his brilliance, a scar like blackened soot there across his face. In every place but that one, the conflagration writhed, newly-formed tongues of flame birthed from his effulgent skin. They lashed at him, struck out in their petulance, adding more decoration to the pattern of his body, new wounds forming before the old could fade away. His wrists were encircled with ever-shifting tendrils, moving, snapping, changing all the while, but never relenting. He noticeably struggled against them, digging his heels deeply into the chipped and cracked sod, but to no avail. He was pulled along at the whim of the flames and no cry from his lips nor pleading nor supplication could stop its progress.   
  
And it was then, as the faint semblance of a breeze tossed the flames into a frenzy, that the Fire opened his eyes, glowing white as like the rest of him, and at last the two beheld each other.  
  
The moment stretched out, tense like the crest of a wave before falling. And just like a wave, it came crashing down just the same.  
  
“What are you doing here?!” the Fire bellowed. “Come to mock?! To deride?! Are you here for the _ spectacle_, Water Spirit?!”  
  
The River drew back, tiny waves lapping up onto the shoreline and dousing the small pyres there. Indeed, it _ had _ been the spectacle he’d come to witness. But here and now, watching this fiery being writhe and wail with anguished steps? His curiosity be damned. “I came to offer my aid!”  
  
The Fire only scowled. “Your aid is unwanted. Begone from here now, little puddle.” But even as he spoke, he fought, making no headway in reining in the conflagration, but trying, nonetheless. He growled low, the crackle of kindling. “Leave! You would already have turned tail if any sense was gifted to you!” And his fury was apparent as it fueled the blaze higher.  
  
The River could not help but cower before this being. For all his lineage, he had not the ferocity of his Mother nor the bitter chill his Father held mastery over. His current was strong, his whirlpools, formidable, his waterfalls, daunting. But he was contained. Kept to his banks but for the rare, spring flood. Who was he to think he could face down such an opponent as this?  
  
But his pondering made no difference in the end. Not as the River witnessed the Fire falling at last, succumbing to the lashes birthed of his own body. With a pained cry, he broke his stance, crashing down upon the ground with a mighty impact. All around him, the blaze grew brighter, the white flame almost obscuring him completely but doing nothing to stifle his screams. “No! _ No! Stop this!_” he begged, his desperate words mingling with the sharp cracks and pops of the forest, ignited. “Put me out! _ Brother!_”  
  
And so despairing were his cries and so broken his body that the River found himself stepping out upon the land before his foolish head could register. The ground was scorching, much too hot for him to tread, and every watery footstep dissipated as soon as it was formed. The steam rose from him, from all across his body, and he felt the pain of it down to his essence. But he continued, calling the mass of him to leap from the banks, directing the flood across the blackened ground. He could not do much, not with himself so far from his source. But he managed what he could, dousing the small flames licking at the tree trunks and sending the bulk straight towards the downed Spirit.  
  
The two forces clashed in a cloud of battle, the cold water attempting to cross the violent corona of pure heat emanating from the Fire’s center. A great billow of steam arose from the skirmish and, for a short moment, the River thought it might have been enough. That the wave of him had managed to penetrate the other’s formidable defenses.  
  
But when the Fire roared his retribution and the dampened earth crackled ablaze once more, the River knew his gambit had failed. He prepared to run, to retreat back to the safety of his domain. But the Fire had taken too much of him. He gazed in wide-eyed fear at the dry land on his every side and at the Fire himself, newly arisen and fast approaching him. He was unmoored, detached, cut off from the essence of himself. He was powerless.  
  
He was dying.  
  
He fell to the earth, white mist amongst ebony smoke, and lay prostrate before the Inferno, weakened here in the heat and the dry land. He struggled to move, to crawl, to stand, to do anything but lay before the fearsome power of this being he had sought to help. He could feel himself dissipating in the broiling air, the steam of him ascending to the sky overhead.   
  
From his deepest heart, he wished he had taken heed, had recognized the wisdom of his friend's words and not thought himself invincible. He wished he had bid him goodbye now, that the Boulder's mossy face might have talked him around as he was so good at doing.   
  
He looked up at the sky, hoping for one final glimpse of his Father but the light was eclipsed and the darkness prevailed. The River had not even tears left to shed, so dry and parched had his very self become. But would that he might weep, he would surely shed oceans.   
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you didn't deserve this. You should have listened, you fool!" The Fire still roared with hungry tongues of flame, but his words were as clear as those far-away shallow pools where the River sheltered through the night. "You should have run far away and prayed never to gaze upon me again!"   
  
The Fire, too, turned his face upward, features morphed into a rictus of pain and disgust. "Will you leave him to die, then?! You're own progeny?! Curse you, Brother, and curse your foul gaze that cannot tear itself away from your Lady's glory! Ruin and damnation where your light touches, Brother! Ruin and damnation while you turn a blind eye!"  
  
And though he lay weakened and sure of his demise, the River made note in the back of his mind of the words the Fire roared. ‘_He calls the Moon "Brother" and berates him as such. But how could such a being of flames have ever looked upon that cold gaze and survived?’ _  
  
Those thoughts soon fled as he felt the whole of him boiling and pain as he’d never known coursing through him. His body was fading, not even the mist of him left visible in the heat. His arms, his legs, his chest, all evaporating. The River closed what was left of his eyes. He could no longer see. Could only barely hear the wailing of the Fire as he shouted abuse at the sky. The River pretended he was cradled deep in his Mother’s waves, at peace in her cool depths and bathed in his Father’s light. He could almost feel the chill of her, that soothing coolness that once held him secure. The splash of her spray upon the rocks, the salty mist in the air, his brothers booming overhead, happy in their elements. He could almost— He could _ almost_—  
  
The first drops that fell upon him barely registered. He was so far gone as to almost be incorporeal, the weight of him growing lighter and lighter by the moment. But as the wind picked up and the smoke shifted, he heard the Fire crying out, heard the almost inaudible susurrus of the rain as it began to fall. With each drop, he felt the life begin to flow through him as all at once he was able to see again, gasping up from his prone position to spy not his Father overhead, but the billowing thunderheads making their home in the sky. Could it be…?  
  
With a great crackle and spark, a bolt of Lightning struck home at the tree beside him and he heard the glee of his brother’s cackle in the thunder that followed. Tiny rivulets had begun making their way across the scorched earth, the blackened soil being carried away into his own banks, rich sediment to travel downstream and foster new life. All around him the flames were doused, leaving him gasping in wonder. He heard the soft splash of feet alighting behind him and he rose to greet the Storm.  
  
He was tall, towering, ever shifting with the tumult inside of him. He was all shades of dark and light, monochrome like his namesake save for the electric blue of his eyes. “Brother! What are you doing here?” the River asked, running forward on reconstituted legs to embrace the Storm wholeheartedly. He was caught up in his strong arms, cast about by the winds of him, caressed by the gentle breeze. The Storm smiled, a break of wispy cirrus across the towering thunderheads. He spoke like the rain, soft upon the River’s surface, harsh upon the land. “We are here for you, Brother. Our Mother bade us find you.”  
  
The River rippled. “Mother? But how did she—?”  
  
“Your rocky pal!” the Lightning spoke, a sharp crack and spark as he suddenly appeared beside them. “And a good thing, too, with how we found you.” The air was thick with ozone, the sharp, electric buzz of his embrace just as warm and comforting as the wind and rain of the Storm. The River looked upon him, upon the vibrant flashes of gold and ochre, violet and red, white and blue that coursed through his body. He felt energized in the Lightning’s presence, as if he held all the power of his Mother’s domain.  
  
The three stepped back, the Children of the Sea and Moon, and beheld each other as the deluge continued to fall. The River let out a relieved sigh. “Of course. ‘Twas the Boulder, my dear friend. I owe him a debt, then.”  
  
The Lightning snapped and twitched. “Do you not owe _ us _ a debt, then, for saving you from that— That _ monster?_” He gestured behind him, a flashing arc of electricity striking another tree, reigniting its sodden trunk but for a moment before it extinguished itself once more. There beneath its ruined branches, a figure shivered, the once blinding light of him now diminished to naught but embers. The Scourge of the Wood was reduced, curling up upon himself even as the rain continued to beat down.  
  
The River beheld him, so small and sputtering, and gave no thought to arresting his steps, not even at his brother’s calls. He could no more stay away from the Fire than the Storm could halt his winds or the Lightning refuse his spark. Beneath his feet, the water rushed, the heavy rain too much for the earth to absorb. He felt the flow of it, its downhill slope, the way it connected him to his own banks, now replete with this offering. The stakes had been reversed; in this moment, the _ River _ held the power.  
  
But he approached not with the thought of violence in his current. No, he had heard the Fire pleading, begging, cursing on the River’s behalf. He had heard his wails as his own flames snapped at him, had seen his anguish in every step. And here and now as he cradled himself, flagging under the torrent from above, the River heard his whimpers, muffled as they were. And he… Just as before, he wanted to help. He held out his arms, a makeshift shield against his brother’s might, an aegis against the Storm. “Is there a thing I can do, oh Living Flame?” he asked, ignoring the indignant sparking of the Lightning behind him.  
  
But the Fire, so small, so powerless now, asked for only one thing: “Bring the whole might of you down upon me, River Spirit, that I might be extinguished once more.”  
  
The River could only sputter at the request. “But why would you—? Why would you ask that of me? Do you not desire to live as well?”  
  
The Fire gave a rueful laugh. “Whenever I live, others die. Wherever I roam, the Spirits wail. And whatever I do, I cannot escape my fate. I am a wretched monster, River Spirit, always hungry, never sated. I _ burn _ , River, burn the creatures of the realm and the Spirits that therin do dwell. I burn them all. I burn _ myself. _ I am inexhaustible, dangerous. Not even you with all your waves could quell me.”  
  
He covered his face with the ash of his hands, turning himself away from the River’s gaze. “I desire to live, River Spirit. And live I shall, in the next spark, the next ember, in every coal left to burn, every blaze gone wild. It is that wretched, pitiful desire that keeps me bound here, bound to destruction and death. Would that I might wish it, that I were able to embrace that death I so readily deliver to others. Would that this paradise flourished in my absence. But I cleave so to life and in so doing, doom the world.”  
  
The Fire turned then, his eyes still so bright where the rest of him had faded, and implored, “And so I ask again: put me out. Let me rest. Give me this one reprieve until I am called upon again to bathe this world in flame. Please... allow me this.”  
  
The River could feel the tears leaking now, his sorrow for this desolate, lonely, _noble_ Spirit dripping down upon the sodden ground. And he once again thought of his Mother and her gentle waves, her powerful embrace soothing his woes. He reached out to cradle the dying Ember, ignoring the steam where the two of them touched. The River held him in his placid arms, rocking him close and feeling his Heat. This would not be an ending for him, he reminded himself. Just a chance for him to rest. And so, with the harmony of the rain and the gentle breeze and the sizzling crackle of the Lightning, the River sang to the Ember the Ocean Song as he slowly, slowly burned out. 

~~~  
  


_And so did the Sea rise up to behold,  
_ _the firmament, strong, and Her own shores,  
_ _receding.  
  
_

_ And so did She say unto the Moon,  
_ _"Let a part of me flow where the dry Land rests,  
_ _That your Light may shine down on the living."  
  
_

_ And the Moon wished that, too, as He made their pact true.  
_ _"Let the River be formed;  
_ _Let the Sea walk the Land."  
  
_

_ The Sea spun from herself a tributary, strong,  
_ _Alike Her in essence, divergent in form.  
_ _And in Her waves, she cradled him.  
  
_

_ And the Moon breathed down upon the Water,  
_ _And filled him with argent Light,  
_ _And Awakened his mind.  
  
_

_ There in the moonglade of his parent's embrace,  
_ _There was the River born,  
_ _The Lifegiver, the Wrath, conjoined.  
  
_

~~~  
  
“The River’s Birth”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title for this chapter comes from the Rachmanioff piece, [Prelude in C Sharp Minor (Op. 3 No. 2)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCtixpIWBto), a dynamic work which I felt fit the confrontation here very well. 
> 
> The title comes from Ralph Vaughan Williams brilliant composition, [The Lark Ascending](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZR2JlDnT2l8). It is such a beautiful, dynamic piece that I feel really embodies the mood and tone I wanted to set for this entire story. I highly, _highly_ recommend giving it a listen, it has recently become one of my favorite songs ever. 
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read this! Let me know what you think! 
> 
> ~Veil


	2. Rêverie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, another chapter! And on schedule, too! Whew! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's still sticking with this, lol. And kudos to those folks who made some guesses about the characters in their reviews! I'm really glad that, despite how strange and potentially OOC everyone might seem here, the essence of their personalities shines through enough for you guys to tell who they're based on. ♥

The Sea was devastating in her beauty; the crashing surf upon the beach, the white seafoam between the breaks, the sprawling expanse of endless water — she tossed beneath the boundless sky, restless and dynamic, settling in the aftermath only to rise up again. She was Motion. And Vastness. And Power.  
  
The River watched from his delta, the glutted waters of him flooding the low ground and enveloping the trees and shrubs. Here is where they met, Mother and Offspring, where his clear, fresh waters drove a stark delineation through her dark waves. Above him, the looming clouds of his brother teemed, the Storm moving outland and the Lightning following. The sky grew darker and darker as his brothers played, their mischief apparent as the Sea flew into a frenzy. The River stared, watching as she roiled, her waves cresting higher and higher until—  
  
A great wall of water arose, dark like the sky and just as agitated. It stretched higher and higher, reaching towards the heavens, a grand partition betwixt earth and sky. From this wave emerged a face, the Sea herself splashing upwards in a powerful surge. The shifting tides moved always in her, cresting and plunging across smooth features. She came to him now, the Tidal Wave, her great form of destruction and devastation kept only at bay by her will alone. The dark maelstroms of her eyes turned down on him and the River felt the full weight of the primordial sea, an Elemental in towering glory.  
  
At times, the River forgot the sheer presence of his Mother and the colossal power she wielded. But standing before her, so small, so infinitesimal, gaping up at her monumental form, he could not help but feel his own powerlessness once again, a pattern he found himself dismayed to repeat. He did not fear her, not ever, not like what he had felt in his short time engulfed in the Inferno… but he held an awed respect for her. He was not keen on the disappointment set across her stern face.  
  
“My Son,” she greeted, her voice deep and lyrical all at once, the rhythms of the tides inundating her cadence, the bellowing of her depths flowing in her tone. “The Storm tells me you were injured.” And she made no implications, did not cast blame upon him, but the River sank down, nonetheless, ashamed of his actions and his accursed curiosity that almost stole him away.  
  
“Mother, I—” He could not seem to muster the words to explain his own actions. He knew they were foolish and inexcusable. He knew he would have perished as like so many others had his brothers not found him in the night. He still felt the pull of himself casting away into the heated air and he rippled where he stood, casting his eyes downward. “Yes,” he finally managed, observing the stark border where he ended and she began. “Had you not sent the Storm and Lightning to aid me, I would have succumbed to the Blaze. I— I was foolish, Mother, but… But I cannot find it in me to regret. Not when— Not when...” He felt the memories running back to him full force as again the tears fell from his face. He dwelt in his thoughts, indulging his sorrow for his own fate. But also…  
  
He thought of the Fire and those last, tender moments as the River cradled him close to his chest. And he found himself once more weeping not for himself but for that brave, sorrowful being who fought his nature at every step, who coveted life and was lost to regret. There was no Storm here to hide his tears, no Lightning to excuse his shivers. There was only the River and his sorrow and the remorse that filled his being.   
  
He heard the great swell of the Sea and felt the shadow of her casting down over him but it was not until he was safely tucked away in his Mother’s gentle arms that he found his voice again, wailing against her tides all the heartbreak left inside.  
  
“I— I— I killed him, Mother!” he cried. “I held him close as you do to me and I— I snuffed him out. I… I killed him. I killed him…”  
  
Her swirling depths curled around him, a comforting embrace that he let himself sink into. “My Child, peace. Peace. The Fire consumes all without cessation. It is all he knows. Did you not say he hurt you? That he sought to _ consume _ you? My sweet River, you must know that what you have done is a good thing, yes? The Fallen Flame could not be allowed to walk free for so long. What you did was natural. You restored the Order.”  
  
But the River could not find comfort in her words. “No, Mother! It isn’t—! This was not of his own doing!” He drifted out from where he was cradled, climbing atop one of her waves. He could feel his resolve harden as he started up at her fathomless eyes. “He fought! Every step he fought! He mourned for the Spirits caught in his embrace but he could not break himself of the Blaze! He was— He was a prisoner to it, a victim like any of us! And when I could not offer him aid, he turned to the sky, besought the White Moon and cursed him, too, when no answer came! And he— The Fire called him ‘Brother’.” The River let himself be carried away by the current of his own feelings, the sorrow and indignation spurring him on to seek answers. “Please, Mother, I would hear his tale. I know you must know, for you have flowed through these lands as long as there have been lands to flow _ through_. I… I _ must _ know what has caused this, Mother. If my Father is responsible. And if there might be some way I can ease the Fire’s suffering.”  
  
He thought perhaps he had never seen his distinguished Mother caught so off-guard. Her waves rose even higher in her incredulity as she heard his plea, the dark pools of her eyes growing larger. _“‘E__ase _ _his_ _ suffering_’?!” she exclaimed. “You would seek to aid He Who Sought to Usurp the Sun?! He Who Sundered the Earth?” She shuddered in agitation and the River slipped along the crest of his perch, only managing to hang on by the barest of droplets. He did not fear the fall, of course not, but he could not afford his focus to be drawn away from the Wave and her dumbfounded exposition. He would hear what more she had to tell.  
  
“What you saw, young one, was his punishment,” she continued, “the price of his hubris.” And perhaps she saw his struggle to stay afloat, for she drew him forth into her hand to cradle him, secure, bringing him up level with her colossal face. A sigh passed through her, like the howling wind across her surface. “But I suppose you are owed this tale, my Son, for all that your encounter with him left you with _ ideas. _  
  
“Long before your birth, before the Mountain rose above, before the Canyon split in twain, there was only the Moon and his love, the Sun, and the Earth and Sea below. The First Elementals came together to create the grass upon the land and the wind through the sky, the fish teeming in the deep and the creatures of the land. And for a time, all was good and well and that peace reigned.  
  
“But the Moon had a Brother, jealous and devious. He had been cast away to the Void for his arrogance, living deep in the Star Fields while the First Spirits held Order. But he was not content to shine only amidst the endless Void, no. He returned to this place, shining bright, the glare of him seeking to blot out the very Sun, herself. He filled the sky with his rays, the glare of him harsh upon the land. And the Moon… The Moon despaired, for he could no longer gaze upon his Love.  
  
“He struck down his Brother for his arrogance, casting him away from the heavens. And he cursed him thrice in retribution: that he hunger, evermore, and never be sated; that his own flames bind him to his task; and that he look upon the Moon and Sun with envy, never again to match their glory.  
  
“And so did the Fire fall to the earth with a resounding crash... And thus was his Fate set, for the crime of his own making.”  
  
The River felt a numbness roll over him like the winter ice upon his surface. He heard her words and understood them well. But _ accept _ them? He… He could not. Just the thought of it, of scarring your own brother so, of binding him to a life of endless torment… The River tried to imagine such a fate for the Storm and the Lightning and he found the current of him roiling in discomfort at the thought. To have such disdain, such _ hatred, _ for your own sibling… The River could not fathom it. He didn’t _ want _ to imagine binding his brothers down to be shredded by their own skin, shackled and dragged and made to destroy against their wills. He— He—  
  
He heard not a word his Mother said as she placed him back upon the flooded plain, her comforting embrace splitting from him to return to her Ocean. She leaned down over him one final time, pulling herself up upon the land to lay a soft kiss upon his head. And the River loved his Mother, adored she who had cared for him and fostered him and released him out into the world. He still found comfort in her kiss. But he could not approve of her indifference. He said not a word as she settled herself back, sinking down and down further into the water until, with a final splash, she was once more the Sea in all of her vastness.  
  
And with stinging eyes and throbbing heart he turned, making his way back to the meadow near the pools where he slept. His friend was there, the old Boulder by the sand, the worry on his face chipping away to relief as he spotted him making his way over. The two regarded each other, Spirits of Water and the Earth, before the Boulder beckoned him closer. And the River felt his face ripple with an eddy of despondency, felt the sharp sting of tears once more. And he threw himself against the Boulder’s solid form, not a word spoken between them, and wept for what he now knew.  
  
The Boulder held him close, staring off beyond the trees where the black smoke still drifted, solid and sturdy and holding the River tight.  
  
  
________________________  
  
  
  
When at last his tears ran dry and that hollow ache had settled itself within the flow of him, the rain had already resumed its downpour. The River looked up, noting the trickles running down the Boulder’s striated surface, dampening the stone and erasing the evidence of his own weakness. He appreciated his brother’s forethought in the masking of his weakness.  
  
“There now, little wave, have you run your course at last?” the Boulder asked, his weight still a comforting enclosure at the other’s back.  
  
The River nodded. “I feel as if the whole of me has drained, my friend.” He cast his gaze downward, observing the tadpoles swimming in the pool below, these tiny lives fostered in his embrace. Would that they could rely on one greater than he… The shame of it all burned deep within him, not unlike the last night’s Flames that set him to boil. The rain upon his skin was a heavy weight, a reminder that without his brothers and his Mother and his trusted friend warning them all, he would have perished. “I am… I am sorry to have burdened you so. I—”  
  
“Oh, come now, none of that,” the Boulder interrupted with a snort. “I would have you drip all over me a thousand times rather than fear losing you again...” His face cracked with solemnity as he looked off into the distance. “What weakness there is in compassion, young one, can be transformed. To strength. To resolve.”  
  
The River found a great comfort in those words. The Boulder was right, he still had much to do and no time for pity. He could feel his own will reforming, a swiftly-solidifying ambition and a plan to surround it. He stepped back from the Boulder’s embrace, all the resilience of his crashing current there in his eyes. “Yes, my friend. I feel it flowing in me,” he said. “And… You heard my Mother’s words, yes? You know what grieves me so. And so you know what I must do, correct?”  
  
The Boulder looked as uncomfortable as the River had ever seen him, shallow cracks driving furrows through his brow, his gaze pensive. “I can only assume your fool head has wrapped itself around some outrageous notion. Need I remind you that the Fire is _ dangerous_, nymph? That you almost met your end at his hands?”  
  
Ah, the Boulder knew him too well. “That is why I would ask your help in this, oh Son of Earth. I would not attempt another confrontation, that lesson has been learned. But still… I feel a need deep within, a desire to… put things to rights. I _ must _ speak with him. I must learn the truth.”  
  
The Boulder sighed, the sound of a pebble skittering across a rocky plateau. “What would you have me do?”  
  
  
  
_______________________  
  
  
  
“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?” The Lightning crouched upon the Earth Spirit’s ridges, the Crag’s new structure giving him an advantageous overhang to perch upon. From his high vantage, he had no trouble making his displeasure known as he encouraged the flashes through the dark sky.  
  
The Storm swayed in exasperation at his chaotic brother. “Have you forgotten?” he asked, vivid, blue eyes widening in disbelief. “The River has need of us.”  
  
The Lightning sparked in agitation. “ _ Yes, _ your drippiness, I _ gathered _ as much. But why are we helping him reignite the Blaze that almost _ killed _ him?!”  
  
The Crag rumbled. “You know as well as I that he won’t be satisfied until he has his answers. At least with all of us here, he cannot be overpowered again.”  
  
The Storm nodded. “Correct. This will be no raging Inferno. Only one, small Flame, easily snuffed out should he attempt to harm any of us.”  
  
The Lightning crackled but relented. “Alright, _ fine_. Can’t have our dear brother enmired in misery, now can we?” He scoffed as another bolt struck down in the distance and muttered quietly, “There’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.” 

The Storm gathered himself, the bulk of him tossing in the wind. “What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing! Just keep yourself in check there, brother dear. A crosswind is stirring. Don’t let your drizzle wet the tinder down below, it already took me ages to dry it out.”  
  
The Storm stared upwards, watching the treeline in the distance as it swayed in the breeze. “Ah, yes, you are correct. Thank you, brother.” And, as the Storm compensated for the wayward wind, his smile turned wry and he couldn’t help but tease, “You always _ did _ have such a way with the Gale, didn’t you?”  
  
Both the Storm and the Crag laughed at the sparking bluster that resulted, the vivid shades of red now flashing in time all across the Lightning’s form.  
  
The two were saved from retaliation, however, by the return of the River who regarded them all with some degree of suspicion as he surfaced. Seemingly thinking better of commenting, he proceeded to float his way beneath the covered overhang, dragging with him his burden. “I found quite a few floating along the surface,” he said, placing the untidy bundle of branches onto the sandy ground. “I’ve drawn out as much of the water as I was able from them, but it will be up to you, brother, to dry them completely.” He cast his gaze up the steep sides of his friend, meeting the Lightning’s eyes as he flashed quickly downwards from his roost.  
  
“Yes, yes, I know my part here.” He sparked his way over, each step a sizzling crack echoing through their makeshift cave. The Crag above grimaced and grunted at the loud noise but he remained steady, a stalwart shelter as the rain pelted the land.  
  
For his part, the River could do nothing but watch his brother work, once more helpless to do what was needed. And what’s more than that, roping the others into helping him when he knew they wanted no part of it.  
  
But he… He could not remain idle on the matter. The things he had seen and heard remained with him, a boiling abscess polluting his thoughts. He could not abide the thought of standing to the side, not if an innocent truly suffered. But… could the Fire really be called such? Cast down here from his heavenly home, cursed to burn for all eternity? And by his own Brother, no less?! The River thought to his Mother’s words telling of order, _ justice_, to his earthen friend confronting the subject with wariness and sorrow. Were they justified? Could this Spirit, the avatar of death and destruction, who had tried to overtake the Sun’s dominion and was banished because of it, truly have been wrongly maligned?  
  
The River did not know… But he would find out.  
  
And soon, it would seem, as a glowing ember registered in his sight. He looked over to where the Crag had fashioned a rocky basin amidst the sand. Inside sat the tinder and twigs that would be their fuel, the catalyst with which he and the Fire could finally commune. His brother sat beside it, slightly singed branches next to him, and his hands outstretched to engulf the dried leaves and grass. They were smoking in his hold, shriveling up upon themselves, curling in the heat. The Lightning was shining, bright, radiant, a deep, red light filling his eyes. He grunted with the effort, trying to control his immeasurable power, to tame the wild bolt he held in his hands. The crackling grew louder the more he focused, the sparks around him growing, bursting, scattering about the stone enclosure. The smell of ozone lay thick in the air, that heady scent mixing with the petrichor of the damp earth.  
  
The River felt his other brother approach, the Storm loud at his back. He watched the Lightning, head cocked to the side, before peering up towards the heavy clouds, growing darker and darker by the minute. The Storm closed his eyes, the form of him bending to and fro in the gusting wind. All around them, the raindrops grew fat and heavy, the downpour washing over the land. And then, at long last, the Storm’s eyes flew open, that electric blue hue now matched with the Lightning’s form. A moment of hesitation, a calm, and then—  
  
A blinding, flashing bolt snapped down from the sky, it’s jagged edges spilling from the black cloud overhead and communing with its host upon the ground. A great crack of thunder pealed out across the land and the Crag shuddered again, tiny pebbles slipping down the face of him. All through the River, tiny offshoots of electricity raced, a shock running through his current and filling him with a sizzling energy. Beneath the Crag’s enclosure, the dry area was set alight with the roaring, orange Flame, the tinder engulfed but the branches burning strong.  
  
And then, all at once, three things happened: the Lightning stood in a flash, spinning around to point an accusing finger at the smirking Storm. “You! I was trying not to do that!” he yelled, a snapping spark shooting towards his brother; a strong gust of wind pushed through the air sending that spark floating sadly down to the sandy floor and from the blast, the Gale stepped forth in all his biting, swirling glory; and a loud wail sounded from the small pyre beneath the overhang, the Fire at last made manifest. 

The River snapped his eyes back to regard the Spirit he had sought to summon, discouraged to see him struggle just as fiercely now as he had in the bygone Wood. He ignored the Lightning’s awkward, “Oh, _ heeeeeyyyyy _ there, Windy. How’ve you been?” and quickly rose up resting his hands upon the basin’s walls to peer inside at his quarry. 

By necessity, the Fire was small, only enough kindling and branches there to feed a dim flame. But even so, the Spirit lay bound, his glowing, heated form being whipped around by the frenzy of his element. Just as before, his own flames surged forth from his skin in hungry waves, gnawing at the branches and whipping at his own, scarred form. Each lash sent a grunt of pain from his lips but he managed to find enough breath left in him to sneer out a, “So hungry for more, eh, Water Spirit? Could you not quench your thirst snuffing me out the first time?”  
  
The River was just as stricken by his cruel words as he had been the first time and he recoiled at the Fire’s harsh mein. But only for a moment as his newfound resolve filled him. He would not shy away from him this time. He would match the other’s cruel speech with his own retorts. And perhaps, if his luck held, he would find a way to cut through to that vulnerability he had witnessed deep within his scorched heart and forge for them an understanding. 

However, before he could even find the chance to speak, a twirling gust coalesced beside him, whipping the Fire into a pained frenzy as the Gale came to kneel at his right. 

Fierce and gentle in the same breath, the Gale was a formidable force. He held within him the powers of the cyclone but could alight with the gentlest breeze. The colors of him blended and flowed, all the pastels of the sunset, all the monochrome of the night sky. He was as of two shades, the delineation of dawn, half of him cast in light, the other to shadow. His eyes sparkled and twirled, each of them divided, too, and he glared down with them at the nascent Flame below.  
  
“_This _ is the Great Calamity?!” he exclaimed, the winds stirring again around them. “This small thing can barely keep itself alight much less terrorize the Weeping Wood. What… What _ happened _ to it?”  
  
At last, the River found his voice and it surged like the waves he had been born to, a palpable fury in his words: “'_It,’ _ you call him! As if he is not also an esteemed Spirit?!” He felt the current spring up around him, though he took care to not let it splash over the earthen walls.  
  
But the Gale gathered himself in his winds, unafraid and full of an easy confidence. “Now now, River, let us both settle. I meant no insult. When Mother speaks of him, she calls him just the same. I had no idea you would feel so slighted on this one’s behalf.”  
  
The Gale’s explanation did nothing to soothe the River’s unease but, for the sake of the Fire, tossed about by the stray Gusts, he thought it best to heed the other’s advice. He spared a quick glance towards the Fire and, though he smoked and panted and still flinched from his own blows, he remained burning steady for the moment. Their eyes met, the muddy brown of the riverbed against the flaring white light. And there again, that burning openness kindled an understanding between the two, an unasked plea for aid and a silent vow of protection, so alike and inverse from their last parting. And the River opened his own heart, fostering this tender trust between them. He felt a Vow settle at the core of him and wondered if there might yet be a modicum of civility to foster. But first…  
  
“What business have you here, Wind Spirit?” the River asked, ignoring the angry sparking of his brother in the background. Outside, the Storm shook his head, a wry smile playing at his lips. The Crag remained silent, a steady presence at his back.  
  
But the Gale swayed gently back and forth, an indifference to his movements, a false casualness. The River knew well the power at his call and knew to be at the ready should their words devolved into confrontation. Children of the Moon they might both be, but the River would not count this Spirit as kin, not as he claimed the Storm and the Lightning. The Gale held the duality within him, day and night, light and dark, life and death. There was too much unknown in him to trust.  
  
And so the River remained where he was, standing guard before the small Flame. It would not save either of them should the Gale decide to attack, but the River felt his Vow deep within him and it satisfied some small part of it to remain. He only had a hope that the Fire might keep his unruly mouth _ shut _ for now, else he be snuffed out with one sweep of the Gale’s arm.  
  
“I should think my business obvious, yes? Mother saw the destruction wrought in the night and tasked me to see it taken care of.”  
  
“It _ has _ been taken care of. The Wood burns no more. The Fire is contained.”  
  
“But still a danger.” The Gale moved back and forth across the sand, stirring the loose debris about his feet. He had a pensive cast to his face now, contemplating, assessing.  
  
The River met that gaze, steady. “Not like this. And should he grow to be one… I have already driven him to rest once before. I am up to the task.”  
  
A blur of motion and suddenly, the Gale was before him, a swift zephyr across the sandy ground. “Are you, really? How might I measure that trust?”  
  
The River felt the maelstrom swirling in his depths and at the core of it, his silent promise. He would keep the Fire safe. He would do whatever it took to dissuade the Gale.  
  
But fortunately, he did not need to.  
  
“Hey, hey, hey, let’s take ourselves a little moment, shall we?” The Lightning sparked up between them, casting them apart. The gust died down but the Gale still regarded the intruder with narrowed eyes. “Windy, my friend, if I might have a small word with you over this way? Ah, perhaps you’d like to talk to my thunderhead of a brother again, yes? It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Come, come, let me explain a few things to you.” And, with a deft hand and steady spark, the Lightning herded the Gale out into the deluge, turning back to give the River a steady nod.  
  
Impulsive and chaotic and mischievous his brother might be, but the River trusted him with all that he was. They three thrived together, River, Storm and Lightning, and the trust that came with that was unbreakable; he would not trade them for dominion over the whole world.  
  
The River was shaken from his thoughts as the Crag rumbled down a creaking scoff at their antics and spoke in as quiet a voice as he was able, “That is certainly one way to draw his attention. But make use of this favor, little wave, before the Fire burns away and all this was for naught.”  
  
The River nodded, resolute, and honed his gaze back upon the Blaze. Their eyes met once more, that same, unspoken trust underlying the exchange. And the River felt… The River felt a strange compulsion. A _ connection _ . Slowly, hesitantly, aware that this might be a mistake, he reached out to caress him, the steam once more rising between them. Beneath the coolness of his hand the Fire stilled, his wild thrashing halting at last as the River drove away the wicked bite of his own flames. And, for the first time in… centuries? Millennia? For the first time in _ ages _ , he was no more the Fire, the burning dread of the land, but the Heat alone, cradled by the River’s gentle touch.   
  
“I..” the River began, his shaky voice breaking the hallowed silence, “I feel this communion between us. And I want to help. I would hear your story, whatever you wish to divulge.” The two did not look away even as the stone around them creaked and the thunder sounded anew. “But I would have the truth from you. Will you give it to me?”  
  
And the Heat, awed and amazed by the River’s gentle touch? At last at peace within his embrace? The Heat gazed up at the Spirit above him and said, “Let me spin you a tale...”

~~~

_ From the First Moment was the Earth:  
_ _A vast, empty wasteland encompassed by the Void.  
_ _And so lonely was He, so empty of Love,  
_ _That He broke away a piece of Himself and placed it aloft.  
  
_

_ Thus, the Moon looked down, barren and desolate,  
_ _And so alike the Earth in form and spirit,  
_ _And empty, so empty,  
_ _That He craved another, too.   
  
_

_ And He looked down upon the Earth from His high place, above,  
_ _And sought a better equal, one Bright and Shining,  
_ _In whose Light He could bask,  
_ _To drive away the hollowness.  
  
_

_ The Moon collected the faint light of the Void,  
_ _And He molded it, shaped it into His own image,  
_ _And thus was the Sun given form,  
_ _A Light to soothe Her lonely love.  
  
_

_ And the Earth saw what had happened,  
_ _And the Moon's face, illuminated,  
_ _And He wept for such Love and for how they had forgotten Him,  
_ _Lost to their dance up above.  
  
_

_ And in His weeping, His tears overflowed,  
_ _Spilling outward and upward all across the whole of Him,  
_ _And settling in His ridges where the Moon had once lain,  
_ _And She cradled his edges; She, the Fathomless Sea.   
  
_

_ And from Sun and Moon came the Gale,  
_ _And from Moon and Sea, the River,  
_ _And from Moon and Earth, the Mountain,  
_ _And from Earth and Sea, the Wood.  
  
_

_ And Harmony dwelt there,  
_ _In the Domain of the Elementals,  
_ _And in their Offspring, the multitude of Spirits,  
_ _Until the Fallen Star was brought low,  
_ _And the Fire rained His terror.  
  
_

~~~  
  


"From Darkness”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from the wonderful Debussy work, [Rêverie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRjllL-MP0U), a lovely, contemplative piece that I feel fits the mood of this chapter quite well. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Here's to wishing everyone the best! ♥
> 
> ~Veil


	3. Ständchen

The wind howled its way across the open meadow of tall grass, jostling the raindrops from their swaying stalks and throwing them about like waves upon the Sea. They undulated evenly in the faint light of the occluded Sun, green and silver alternating back and forth amidst the heavy rainfall, rising and falling, reaching down to caress the Earth.  
  
There in the meadow, waiting steadfast beside the flowing River, stood the Crag, his surfaces buffeted from all sides by the tempest, but holding firm, holding strong. Darting along his saturated stone, the Gale howled and the Lightning crashed and the Storm stirred in a frenzy all about, the three Spirits locked together in an earnest discussion. And there at the base of him, sheltered by his sturdy walls and outstretched arms, was the alcove where an unwavering glow cast shadows across the uneven surfaces. The glow of Heat, white-hot, rippling the air with his warmth. And there beside him was the River who embraced him without reservation, the both of them lost to each other and the balance between them.  
  
“Please,” spoke the River as he gently encircled the other, “I would hear your story.”  
  
A moment of hesitation, of the Heat steeling himself, and then a muttered, “Alright, then.” He closed his eyes, a grimace coming to rest upon his face, and spoke with ancient words laced with the experience of the darkness beyond. “In the far ages past, long before the Spirits' birth, there were only the Elementals, the foundations of the world. The stalwart Earth, the vast Sea, the resplendent Sun, and the… and the _ Moon._”  
  
The Heat took a breath to scoff and the River was again reminded of his connection with his Father, above. Such hatred, such vitriol laced through a single syllable...  
  
“But there was another made with the Four," he continued. "An accident. An _ aberration _. A fifth was formed when the Moon split from the Earth, for the break was not clean when the Living Stone splintered. That Shard came to rest in the sky alongside the Moon, following in his shadow, wishing for his regard.”  
  
”You?” the River inquired.  
  
And the Heat nodded. “Yes. _ Me. _” He turned away, hiding his expression in the coolness of the River’s hand. "Unwanted from the start.”  
  
By now, the Heat had grown, no longer the fragile form of Fire the River had managed to hold in a single hand. The warmth of him was intense but… heady. And, as the flames began to lick at the exposed areas of his face once more, the River wasted no time on hesitation before wrapping him fully in his embrace. Again, the flames settled and again the Heat sighed in relief, the growing cloud of steam surrounding the two a welcome sight in their eyes. A silent gratitude filled his luminous eyes and the River was filled with contentment.  
  
Enveloped now by the crisp current, the Heat soldiered on. “I followed him for what felt like a lifetime, the Moon… He was sizable, powerful, of a shape with the Earth and just as mighty. I… I wanted more than anything to be as he was, not a jagged, malformed afterthought of creation. A powerful Elemental, a force to be reckoned with! Someone worthy of acknowledgement!  
  
“But… but for the time being I was… _content_ with my lot, glad to accompany he who I called ‘brother,’ to share in his space. I thought perhaps he enjoyed my presence, too, small as it was. But he— But he didn’t even _hesitate_ to replace me!”  
  
There was an obvious rage on his face now and the River, coiled as he was around the Heat’s form, felt the burn of him in every eddy. He gasped but did not release his hold, only settled his waves to caress the other hoping that they might calm him as his Mother’s gentle rocking had once soothed his own self. “What did he do?” he asked, letting none of his discomfort leak through in his words.  
  
The Heat sank in upon himself, covering his head with an arm as if to protect him from the memories. His other hand reached up to worry nervously at the dark blemish across his face. He seemed unaware that he did either. “We had roamed the void for so long side by side. Just us two and the Earth far below and the blackness encroaching from every side. My brother felt… unsettled by it. He wished for a light in the darkness, one that might shine upon his face and ease his woes. For he had seen the stars far off in the distance and he spent all his time pining for them, coveting their light.  
  
“He began to plan. To detail how he was to steal their light away and hoard it for himself.” There was a certain heaviness to those words, a special emphasis the Heat placed on them that gave them a weight of bitter sorrow. “He spoke of it _so often_, of molding the Firstlights to fit his own ideal.  
  
“And I… I who had been at his side since we had both been brought to bear, I felt that first, painful lash burn through me. He pined so for the light upon his face. And so, I… I thought to bring it to him. To become that which he yearned for, which he would gaze upon in awe. His _equal _at last.  
  
“I set forth from his side and ventured deep into the star fields. And their glowing, their light, it pierced the heart of me. I felt _powerful!_ I felt _strong_ in their midst, not just the castoff of the Earth but impressive and dynamic and capable just as my brother was! I became what he wanted. I became what _I_ wanted. And when at last I had drained the lights to a dim glow, I set forth to return, eager to see him finally look upon me with respect and approval.”  
  
The River laid his head upon the Heat, the foreknowledge of how his tale would end causing shudders of sorrow to ripple through his form. He squeezed the other tighter to him, a steady presence he hoped the other might take some comfort in.  
  
“But what greeted me as I returned… I have never felt such rage, such anger, as the sight of the Sun instilled in me. My brother had formed her, shaped her to match himself, perfect, peerless, a bastion of light shining out across the cosmos. And there he sat, his face turned toward her, enraptured! He did not even notice me. _Me_, who he had once called brother! Who had trailed in his wake for so long! Who set himself ablaze for him! He could not tear his eyes away from his creation!  
  
“So I thought to _make_ him! Light he had desired and light he would have! I let myself burn! I was through with tempering the flames now inside me. And the starlight within _burned_, a blinding better to this assembled imitation! I burned and I burned, hotter and hotter, brighter and brighter, until I eclipsed her own rays with the very essence of myself! And it was only then, only after he could no longer see her for my radiance, that the Moon turned his face away to regard the wayward castoff that had followed him for so long!”  
  
The Heat flailed and thrashed in his grasp, his shining eyes seeing far beyond the small stone shelter and out to the realms the River could not even fathom. Even the cool breeze was not enough to temper the incandescent Heat.  
  
The River did not let go.  
  
“And what did he say then?! No kind words of welcome! No thought to ask of my travels! Not even a greeting! No, he let fly the accusations, instead. He railed at me, speaking of ‘abandonment’ and ‘ambition’ and ‘selfishness!’ He was enraged that I had interfered with his handiwork and that I now sought to take her place! And when I flung his own words back at him, of how he had forsaken me, of how he had replaced me and given prominence to a counterfeit, he struck me.”  
  
The Heat was so intense that the River himself boiled, his only consolation being the cold banks at his feet. But the Heat had wreathed himself in an anguished corona, the scarred lines of his face bared in savagery and sorrow. The River witnessed the genuine emotion coursing through the Spirit, the true horror and betrayal and anger he felt. And he could do nothing but listen until his tale was through and try and soothe the jagged edges of him left behind in the aftermath.  
  
“I did not know to expect the blow. And you see the evidence here before you, surely. “He gestured to the prominent, black scar bisecting his face, the only part of him cool to the touch. “If I am the Burning, the Heat, the Fire, then the Moon is the Freezing, the Cold, the Ice. We were as two opposites, matched, primordial forces pitted against each other. But as ever, I was no match for him. He, the Colossus, he, the Wisdom, he, the _Elemental. _And I, ablaze though I was, could never hope to contend.  
  
“And so… _And so,_ my own brother struck me down and I fell from the heavens never to return. And upon me, he laid his curse. And so I am bound, forced to suffer for all my days in the burning dregs of my once-mighty power… He is inventive in his cruelty, I’ll give him that.”  
  
The Heat exhaled a rueful laugh, the sound of defeat in his voice. And at last, the swelter began to abate and only the sorrow was left to him and a hollow set to his voice. “I came into this life as an afterthought. Is it better to leave it an enemy?”  
  
And he bowed his head, lost to his grief, the flowing stream that wetted his face the only tears he could shed.  
  
And the River held him in his grief. He did not let go.  
  
  
_____________________  
  
  
  
How much time passed while they cleaved to each other was uncertain but when at last they surfaced from their shared communion, the rain had lightened to a drizzle and the sun was peeking through the gaps in the clouds. The landscape around them shimmered in the light of day, the dewy drops clinging to every surface and setting the land alight.  
  
The Heat and the River paid no notice as they pulled back to regard each other, each with a glint of pure awe in his eyes. Awe and a deep, abiding trust that settled into their deepest hearts.  
  
The Heat reached up then, gleaming hands coming to rest on either side of the River’s narrow face. He stared at him, white eyes aglow, and said, “How can you be real?”  
  
The River only smiled. “You would know if I were not, surely?”  
  
A huffed out laugh, a noise rusty with disuse, issued from the other. “Unless I have at last taken leave of my senses, _little puddle_. Unless I see you only as a dream.”  
  
The River laughed, too, the bright babbling of the brook. “Then we dream together, tiny spark. Then we dream together.”  
  
And what more was said was without words, every feeling between them flowing from one to the other, unceasing, a tide of emotion bracketed by trust and devotion. There was something unspoken between them, a bond, a connection. Within their conjoined hearts, it pulsed in time as they let loose their joy, their eyes affixed on each other as their forms shook with laughter.  
  
They reveled there for a moment, delighted by nothing but the presence of each other, before—  
  
A sudden spark and a crackling boom and— “Alright, alright, alright, this is all very well and good, you two, but we cannot stay overlong and we have much yet to discuss. So if you would…?”  
  
The River looked up to behold the Lightning, so quick and so bright and so very, very smug, and past him to where the Storm and Gale also stood. A deep well of embarrassment rose up within him, a force so powerful it felt as if he’d been caught in one of his Mother’s maelstroms again. He could feel himself undulating with agitation but still, he did not let the Heat go. The same Heat who had his lips quirked into an easy smirk at his discomfort, an expression of spirited amusement adorning his face. And the River was once again entranced at the sight of him happy and content. He had caused this. _He_, the River, the son of this Spirit’s greatest adversary. The waters of him settled and determination took hold; he felt the vow he had made to protect the Heat pulsing within him as he turned back to face the others.  
  
“Discuss?” he inquired, a suspicious glance aimed the Gale’s way.  
  
But the Lightning only sighed. “_Yes_, dear brother, _discuss_. Did you think we sat idle as you told your little fireside stories? No, we have been trying to discern what to do with this… rather unprecedented situation.”  
  
The Gale swept up beside him, nodding. “It is as he says, River. This is not a situation I had anticipated when Mother bade me end the destruction. But your brothers made some… _eloquent_ points in your favor.” He swept an offhand gust their way but the River just rippled around it and the Heat showed no effects. The Gale frowned but continued. “I have questions, first. Before I agree to aid you.”  
  
And the River found himself at a loss. He could not say he was expecting such an offer, not with the circumstances of their meeting earlier. He had expected that he might have to fight, to vanish back beneath his waves with the Heat at his side, sheltering in the depths until the Gale had blown himself out. He certainly did not think he might offer _aid_.  
  
Eloquently, he asked, “What?”  
  
The Gale just quirked his two-toned face into a little half-smile, an openness there that was usually missing from him. “Is it so outrageous to fathom? That I might hear of a misdeed and seek to set it to rights?”  
  
The River, still wary, cast him a solemn gaze. “No, not at all, Warden of the Winds. You are a swift justice meted out to all transgressors.” He tightened his grip on his calescent companion, the desire to shield him from harm still bubbling away inside him. “Except that at morning’s light, you sought to destroy him—” he gestured to the Heat, “—but now past the noon, you’ve managed a change of heart? The wind blows fickle, Moonchild, but not such a shift as this.” He narrowed his eyes, mustering the full force of himself to writhe amidst the shallow pools. “I would know _why_.”  
  
But it was not the Gale who answered him.  
  
“Though my rains streamed down with a great force, they could not hide your words from the Wind, himself.” It was the Storm who called his attention, now, the form of him growing faint and wispy as more and more sunlight caressed the fertile land. “Your words carried easily to where we had convened. And offered much insight. We have heard the Fire’s plight and it has led to some… _shifts_, as you said.”  
  
And at last, tired of being shielded within the River’s flowing form, the Heat came to bear, bringing with him his biting words. “Oh, lamentations for the Fire! Oh, pity for his wretched form! Where was your _understanding_ prior, hm? Where was your _change of heart_ last evening!? When you brought the force of your power down upon me, struck blow after blow until I was but ash? When you called me _monster_?!”  
  
“Well, what were we to think when you _acted_ as such?!” The Lightning was riled, the sparks of him flashing, trying desperately to find an anchor in the meager clouds above. “You burned down the Greenwood! You killed many Spirits in the night! You almost killed our _brother_, the one you hide behind even now!”  
  
At those words, the Heat snarled like the crack of breaking metal and and the air danced with his torrid rage. He tore himself away from the flow enveloping him even as the River tried desperately to hold on, the blazing fever of him sending the liquid to steam once more. The River could not keep his grip, could not restrain the other within his cooling influence. And thus, the Heat stepped forth, the flames bursting from his skin anew, and became the Fire once again.  
  
“Who’s hiding, Bolt! You think your meager sparks can singe me?! I, the Vessel of Flames, consumed in my waking moments by the burning! You do not scare me!”  
  
And though the Lightning was sometimes foolish and oftentimes reckless, even he knew of what danger he faced here and now as the Fire set his tread upon the green grass. His flames reacted immediately, hungry, _ravenous_, as in the meadow the pyre grew. The Lightning shuddered backwards, his energy all but drained with the Storm struggling to hold even a light mist now.  
  
But even as his fate approached him with burning steps, a new force stepped between them. There, the Gale stood strong, the grassy meadow whipped into a frenzy by his winds. “And you think _this_ is how to go about proving to us you are not some mindless _thing_?!” he called. “Have you taken leave of your senses?!”  
  
The gusts stirred the calm waters into a frenzy and the River, a horrified bystander thus far, responded in kind, already climbing up from his banks in pursuit. _He had to—! He needed to reach—!_  
  
But the Storm blocked his path, his fading, cirrus wisps looking on in anguish. “Please, do not! He is too far inland, you will burn yourself away just as before!”  
  
And the River gazed upon his brother’s face and knew his words were true. He looked on, helpless, hopeless, caught between his vow of protection and his own anger at the Fire’s recklessness. Being goaded by the Lightning, of all things! Leaving him behind for the sake of his own, foolish pride! And now look at him, shackled by his flames once more, driven to feed the hungry pyre. The very core of him ached at the sight and at the fact he could do _nothing_.  
  
But all action halted as the earth itself rumbled and the land began to shake. The River rippled across his surface; the Storm and Lightning shuddered; the Gale’s eyes focused upward to look beyond his adversary; and the Fire, helpless as he was to cease the flames dragging him, still managed to twist himself enough to gaze backward.  
  
From towering heights, the Crag glared down, the shards of him shaping and twisting, breaking and mending as he set himself in motion. From the sharp drops of him formed a hand and, with surprising alacrity he moved, his great, stony grasp encircling the Fire tightly and lifting him from the flaming field.  
  
The burning Spirit struggled mightily, thrashing and lurching between the cold, wet rocks. “Curse you, idiot stone! Release me! _Release me!_”  
  
But the Crag held him firm, a considering look upon the face of him, equal parts angry and forlorn. It made for a striking contrast upon those ancient features. “Settle, young one, cease your flailing.”  
  
And the Fire _did_ stop at that, but only to sneer up at the Crag. “_Young_ one? I am more ancient than anything on this forsaken earth! I have known the void and its all-consuming blackness! I have seen the Firstlights made manifest! I have—”  
  
“Yes, yes, you’re exceedingly important, we all heard. I sheltered you through the Storm, tiny flame, I know of your ordeals.” His brow cracked with furrows as he stared the Fire down. “And I have witnessed your metamorphosis. You held such control over yourself in the River’s embrace. Did you not know peace, then? Did you not desire it?” He huffed out a great, dusty laugh, the sound of grinding stone. “There is a bond between the two of you, little flame, that you would do well to foster. _Do not_ throw that away for such a meaningless confrontation. I would have your word on it, flighty as it may be.”  
  
The Fire sneered up at him but, as if by force, his head snapped away to stare back towards the River, still distraught in his brother’s hold. Though a significant distance lay between them, it was as if they could see into the heart of the other, see the panic and desperation, the anger and humiliation.  
  
“Please,” the River whispered as the Fire began to sputter.  
  
And, wonder of wonders, the Fire relented, no longer thrashing in the Crag’s hold save for the autonomous buffets of his flames. “You will _have_ my word, then. I swear it.”  
  
And that seemed good enough for his earthen friend, for he gave one great, creaking nod before moving once more, bringing his burning captive down closer and closer to the water’s edge.  
  
And the River wept even as he reached out, once more engulfing the other in the essence of him, reining in his wicked punishments and reveling in the relieved sigh he gasped out.  
  
The Storm, finally content with both his brothers safe again, felt the pull of his nature. He had tarried too long in this place and the last of him was fading in the Sun's rays. He gestured to where the Lightning still sat huddled, stunned, behind the whipping Gale. The Bolt arose from his crouch, sparking eyes full of complicated emotion as he watched the Fire give way to Heat once more. He flickered slowly towards where the Storm waited, so uncharacteristic for a Spirit usually so full of energy.  
  
But he gave pause as he drew level with the Gale. A spark and a gust danced together where they met, some great significance in the action. Their eyes told of something more, something akin to the same bond that allowed the Heat to be held safely within the River’s current.  
  
But the Lightning could not linger. He drew level with the fading Storm and, with one final, backwards glance toward the Gale and a wry smirk sent towards the River and Heat, the two of them departed, pulled along by the promise of new lands to dance upon.  
  
The Gale stared long in the direction they'd headed and the crosswind that had buffeted the field suddenly changed course, a strong gust propelling their journey. From his banks, the River still watched him, wary, but the Gale took his time approaching him and his companion, casting nervous glances their way as if afraid to interrupt their reunion. But when the River caught his gaze, he nodded, a clear sign for the Gale to join them.  
  
“I… I had not expected to see such a thing here, River, Heat. Such a tempering force upon so powerful a being…” He had a far away look in his mismatched eyes but his malice had long-since retreated. “I will… speak with my Mother. About a solution. Your way is… You are right, there are better options to consider than smothering him every time he dares show his face.”  
  
The River and Heat both stared up at him as he gave a small nod and a smile. “Look for me in the new dawn, esteemed Spirits. I will fly with all haste!” And, with a strong, bracing breeze, the Gale took to the skies where he made his home, sailing onward and upwards towards where the bright Sun cast down her rays.  
  
The Heat and the River spoke not a word as they watching him depart and they continued to do so in the aftermath. All around them lay the dewy grass and the ash upon the meadow, the evidence of all that had occurred. The larks sang out and the fish below swam without a care. The two Spirits, bound by trust, driven by loyalty, comforted in each other’s embrace, looked on, content for the moment and bracing for what was to come.  
  
And keeping his silence and his watch, the Crag sheltered them both and pondered what they had unlocked.

~~~  
  


_Before the first Light were the Moon and His Twin,_  
_Fashioned from Earth,_  
_Embraced by the Void,__  
_ _Celestial stones keeping watch in the Dark._

_Together They sailed through the sable Abyss,_   
_The Moon at the fore,_   
_The smaller Shard, trailing,_   
_They in Their hearts tied together as kin.  
  
_

_But the Moon soon grew weary of that endless night,_   
_As he witnessed the Stars,_   
_And their radiance, shining,_   
_And so set forth to fashion a Light of His own.  
  
_

_And his Twin saw that longing and knew His intent,_   
_And grew cold at the thought,_   
_Of His Brother’s unease,_   
_As He looked far beyond the embrace of His Kin.  
  
_

_The Shard stole away from His place high above,_   
_Setting out for the Stars,_   
_That His Brother so coveted,_   
_To take for His own all the Light that they stored.  
  
_

_And when He returned, the Meteor Ablaze,_   
_And was met with the Sun,_   
_And His Brother beside Her,_   
_He felt within Him the Wrath and a Wicked Desire.  
  
_

_And in fierce immolation fueled by Envy and Longing,_   
_He burned away all ties,_   
_To the Moon and His Form,_   
_And as Fire Incarnate, laid siege to His Rival.  
  
_

_And thus did the Brothers come to blows in the sky,_   
_With both Hatred and Love,_   
_At the heart of Their feud,_   
_Alike in Desire and broken in Bond.  
  
_

_~~~  
  
_

“The Firstlights”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is taken from this beautiful Schubert piece, [Ständchen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6Njg1LFxFk). I love how it sounds like an emotional sort of conversation between two different voices. It really conveys the emotion of this chapter for me, particularly the River and Heat's conversation at the beginning.
> 
> Again, thank you all for sticking with this! You're just the best! ^_^
> 
> ~Veil


	4. Claire de Lune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I'm back here with some more of this weird nonsense! Woo!!
> 
> First off, I wanna apologize for this being late. This chapter was just fighting me so hard. (I even ended up splitting it into two...) And I was also just wretchedly sick all of last week, too, and had no time to work on anything. So, sorry but hopefully this makes up for it a bit? u^_^
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“Are you injured?”  
  
The quietude of the near-empty meadow was broken by the softly muttered words, the stillness that had settled with the Gale’s departure, broken. They were solemn, muted, and the Heat wondered at the difference that made.  
  
From the very first moment he had sighted the River, that foolish, little Spirit peeking up at him from over his banks, he could not help but notice the life flowing through him. Every word of challenge, every ill-advised step, every valiant struggle, they all painted for him the image of a vivacious being, capricious, demanding, _brave_. But compassionate, also. Even from the start, he had only sought to help. And with every steaming step, he’d faced down his own demise for a chance to do so. And when the Fire begged, when he pleaded for him to put an end to his torment, the River had done so, reluctance in his every move. He’d held him close and smothered him with his own crystalline tears.  
  
He was not accustomed to such kindness. Had not thought the other would be moved so by his words. Oh, his demise had been imminent, yes, but the company? The _emotion?_ The River had _wept_ for him and—  
  
He did not understand.  
  
He still didn’t. He sat here now at what was perhaps the most baffling part of their entire acquaintanceship. He was wrapped securely in the River’s embrace, his flames held at bay by the rushing waters, his soul at peace after an eternity ablaze. And deep, deep within the very core of him formed at his birth, he felt the pulsing, that strong, powerful aura so akin to that peace, a formidable current keeping his very soul safe. It was a warmth unlike any other, no heat, no fire, only… only a trust, a bond, the promise of companionship, the knowledge that they would never again be alone.  
  
He did not understand.  
  
“My friend?”  
  
The Heat started from his contemplation, glowing eyes quick to focus back on his companion. “Ah, no, no, worry not. My wounds have already healed without the flames to tear at me.”  
  
The River eyed him up and down, assessing the truth of that for himself, before nodding. “Yes, so it seems. In that case…”  
  
He had come to expect many things from his first and only friend: stubbornness and bravery, protectiveness, attentiveness, a glaring streak of self-sacrifice. What he did _not_ expect was to suddenly be hoisted from where he sat, the River’s mighty current carrying him away with ease into the teeming shoals below. The cold hit him all at once, the runoff of the snow-capped mountains that drained into these banks. The glow of him dimmed and the scar across his face ached something dreadful. He had a moment of panic, of fear, wondering if he had once more fallen prey to a being who sought to betray him, but—  
  
The bond still pulsed within him. The River still held him, secure. And in a few seconds, it was all but done, the other Spirit lifting him back up to sit upon the land again.  
  
“Wh— Wh— Wha—?” he sputtered, his arms wrapping around himself even as the River engulfed the whole of him. As much as he despised her, he could not help but bask in the Sun’s own rays as they filtered through the pearlescent water that coated him, the warmth quickly returning to his skin.  
  
The River lay beside him, beneath him, overtop him, encircling, encompassing him on every side. "_T__hat_ was for trying to hurt my brother!” he shouted, a muffled echo from all directions. But he also let himself settle, too, pulling him over into what felt less like a flood and more like an embrace. The River’s arms came around him, their bodies pressed tight. “And _this_,” he spoke softly, his head resting upon the Heat’s shoulder, “is for stopping. For… returning to me.”  
  
And from inside and out, the Heat felt his power, the warming water caressing his skin, the River’s vow of protection resonating deep within. And without conscious thought, he found himself reciprocating.  
  
“I will _always_ return to you.”  
  
He felt it as those words took root, germinating within his companion’s watery depths. And as if something had been set right within him, something long since dislodged, the Heat felt… calm. Steady. Dare he say… in control? Their promises to each other circled and twined, combining so tightly they could never fully be parted. There in their very cores, they found a balance like the beating of a heart, a song sung together in every vibration.  
  
He did not understand… but he did not need to.  
  
__________________  
  
  
The two of them sat there, reveling in each other’s embrace for a long while afterwards. The midday sun slowly moved westward, the afternoon fading into the low light of the evening as they spoke with each other, the warmth of contentment enveloping them both. And when dusk settled in at last, the fading violet blanketing the horizon and tucking the Sun into her slumber, the Crag finally found it in himself to relax his guard and sink back down into his earthen home.  
  
He had been watching them, studying their interactions from his high vantage, ready to intervene at any moment should the little spitfire prove volatile once more. But the way they held each other, completely entwined and inherently trusting in each other’s space, it made him think that perhaps what he had seen earlier in the Fire’s face had indeed been the truth, that this gamble would pay off.  
  
The Boulder was old. Old and broken, fractured by time and hardship and ineffable loss. He had been witness to the Great Calamity, felt the Sundering of the Earth, that time when the Meteor had been cast from the sky and been loosed on the world as the unquenchable Fire. The encounter had scarred him, left him broken, shattered, though the Fire himself knew nothing of the destruction he had caused. He had been naught but a mindless beast back then, screaming his rage up to the heavens, stoking his flames higher and higher in puerile fury. And when he unknowingly set alight the Greenwood—  
  
The Boulder did not sleep, did not dream in the night. But the nightmares haunted him, nonetheless. Cursed visions of his beloved offspring, glowing orange and red and yellow, his wails of anguish singing through the air, nothing left of him in the Fire’s wake but the brittle, blackened Coal.  
  
The Boulder could not weep, could not cry. But the core of him had cracked apart then, shattered like his body had been. He had felt the hollowness inside of him since that day, the open space and jagged edges like a geode growing within him.  
  
But as he looked at the Heat now, content within the River’s gentle embrace, the Boulder spared a thought for comparison. The Devourer, the Fallen Star, the Calamity, those titles weighed so heavy… They all seemed such an ill fit now. He, held in that flowing embrace, cherished and cradled; he, the glowing warmth, the Heat; he… Beloved of the River.  
  
The Boulder was old. He had seen many things. But the harmony made manifest here between these disparate forces drew him back to a time before the Sundering, back to the days when peace and order reigned. There was a Bond between them much like the Elementals of old, a communion, a song, delicate and burgeoning…  
  
He thought once more of the Greenwood burning, of the Fire and his mindless rage, of his own stationary helplessness. Of the cycle of death and rebirth, of the Wood returning altered each time, no memory of his Father. Of the still-smoking Coal that was all that was left of him even now, so far beyond the Boulder’s reach.  
  
He thought of the Fire’s own plight, of the touch of compassion that had tamed him to the River’s side and that growing Bond keeping them together. The Boulder quaked with a desperate hope, a solution to the madness that had haunted the world for so long finally in sight. A chance for renewal, for new growth, for… peace. It laid here in the liminal spaces where the River and Heat met and in the wellspring of affection that became the steam between them.  
  
And he would not hinder its growth.  
  
___________________  
  
  
The pools where the River sheltered overnight looked the same as they always had. Same still water, same shallow depths, same habitat for tadpoles and minnows and skittering crabs. It had only been a day since he had last settled here but it felt to him as if the world had been inverted, all the things he had known in his short life flipped upside down with the upheaval. As he let himself splash amidst the natural basin, no push or pull of his current demanding his attention for once, he looked over towards the main source.  
  
The Heat rested along the stony embankment very near to where he had been summoned earlier in the day. The soft glow of him lit up the small pool, the lambent light casting a luster upon the flittering shapes and soft scales and gleaming shells down below. A gentle steam rose from their point of contact, the Heat’s feet kicking playfully back and forth through the water, face delighted with the simple joy of it. The motion soothed the River, the languid strokes like a caress across the flow of him, and he found himself smiling to match his companion.  
  
“Such a delight for disrupting the order of things, tiny spark. Do the ripples fascinate you so?”  
  
The Heat’s easy grin pulled tight into a smirk as he looked the River’s way, aiming a splashing kick towards where he floated. “Surely _you’re_ not one to talk, little puddle! Always moving and flowing and splashing about! I’m surprised you can abide the calm!”  
  
A deep chuckle from behind sent another ripple through him and the River glanced over to regard the Boulder and the amused glint in his eyes. “He’s got you there, nymph. It is a great rarity to ever see you still.”  
  
He let his face morph into an expression of outrage. “Oh, _I_ see! We must all take a side to bully the poor River, is that it? And here I thought we were _friends!”_ His over-exaggerations seemed to have sufficed to draw forth more amusement for both the Boulder and Heat gave a laugh at his faux outrage.  
  
It was… odd, to say the least, to see the two of them so in sync but the River could not help but be overjoyed by this development. From the altercation earlier in the day, as well as the unspoken reservations he seemed to have in the first place, the River had not expected such friendly overtures from the old rock. And likewise with the hostility the Fire had shown the Crag earlier, he had not expected a rapport to develop. But something seemed to have… changed between them, some hidden malice, washed away. Here and now, they held between them an easy camaraderie that the River could not help but be ecstatic over. He watched them with a smile, sated and warm.  
  
But their easy peace did not last.  
  
Cresting high over the jagged mountain peaks, the first light of the Moon reflected a silver glow across the land, his cold, pearlescent sheen painting the night in monochrome. The waxing gibbous was shining bright and nearly full and his silhouette was large and intimidating.  
  
The Moon. The Second Elemental. The River’s Father… The Heat’s enemy.  
  
Such conflicting feelings assaulted him at the sight, familiar pangs of longing and curiosity of course, but now undercut with the bitter tang of suspicion and doubt. A quick glance towards his companions showed vastly different expressions. The Heat, to no surprise, had creased his face tight with a potent, seething hatred, the glowing lines of him pulled taut and the dark blemish across his face furrowed and warped. Even in the brightness of the moonbeans, there was a visible increase in the glow of him, and added intensity as if to fend off his brother’s touch. He had stopped splashing his feet through the water below.  
  
In contrast, the Boulder’s gaze never left the Heat. His eyes — no, his whole form — held a weight of gravity and solemnity. It was a look he wore often, that distant gaze that seemed to assault him at random. A hollowness lived inside him at these moments, the encompassing Void. But… But not entirely this night. There was the shine of… of _something_ there in those polished, cobalt depths and when he turned his gaze skyward that the light might reflect upon them, a great wave of determination calcified across his whole form.  
  
Such wholly different reactions in them both at the sight of his Father… But how did they compare to his own thoughts? Here in the darkness, he looked upon his silvered sire and thought not of him staring back in pride or approval… The River stared into that night sky and, as if seeing clearly for the first time, let his newfound revelations wash over him.  
  
He had always loved and revered his Father on high. From the very moment of his inception, cradled tightly to his Mother’s bosom, he remembered the Moon’s shine casting over him and the comfort it had brought him. The Sea spoke often of him regaling the River and his brothers with tales of their Father’s intelligence and power, of his hidden gentleness and humor, of how he loved them all and showed it by keeping them in his light when he was able. She had held him close and whispered him tales and he had soaked up every word like a dry bed in a sudden shower. And since his infancy, he had taken her stories as truth, inundating himself in his Father’s light and basking in his perceived approval.  
  
But even then, convinced as he was of his Father’s love for him, he could not help but feel… bereft. From his immovable banks upon the ground, the River had longed for the touch of his sire, for a connection like that which he shared with the Sea. She assured him often and always of how much the Moon cherished his children, yes, but… On lonely nights when he had drifted away from his Mother’s shores, when his brothers had been far afield and he had no Boulder to lap against in the dark, he would find it within him to try and gain his Father’s attention.  
  
“Hello, Father! It’s me, the River!” he would call, the moonlight glittering off his surface. “I know you must be dreadfully busy way up in the sky. Well, Mother says so, anyway. But I would sorely love the chance to meet you? Or to hear your voice just once?” The deafening silence was never enough to halt his giddiness. “I have so much I wish to tell you of, Father! If you might only spare a moment! I’m sure Mother won’t mind if our meeting is brief...”  
  
On and on he would plead with the stillness and never, not once, did he receive a response. He wondered why each time, wondered if the Moon was too preoccupied with his own business as his Mother had suggested. Wondered if he might just be too far away to hear the pleading of his minuscule offspring. Sometimes even wondered if… if it was his own fault, if his Father had deemed him too insignificant to take notice of. It was when those thoughts assaulted him that he would seek a distraction, riding his current recklessly and reminding himself that this is what he had been created for, that he served his purpose very well. Sometimes he would go to visit his Mother, to hear her words of reassurance that his Father loved him. Sometimes he would sit with the Boulder, his steady presence like a balm to his soul. Sometimes his brothers would whip him into a frenzy and they would spend the day at play, carefree and joyous and at home in their elements.  
  
But every night the Moon would rise again and the River could not keep that seed of doubt from sprouting. He still looked to him with a venerable love and an awed respect but sometimes his light felt so _cold…_  
  
Looking up from his shallow pool now, the River felt that same shiver run through the body of him, a chilled ripple across his surface. As if by instinct, he drew closer to where the Heat sat, drawn to the warmth of him where they were still connected. Sidling up beside him, the River spared a moment of hesitation, his hand arrested mid-movement. There was no Fire here, no raging blaze in need of his tempering. The Heat, he was _agitated,_ yes, but he was still in control of himself. Surely he did not want the River hanging all over him yet again…?  
  
As if reading his mind, the Heat finally tore his gaze away from his estranged brother, turning to look at where he hovered in indecision. One glance at his outstretched hand had his face smoothing out, the harsh glare dying down in unison with the blinding glow of him. His radiant eyes met the River’s own as he reached for him, the Heat’s own hand wrapping around his watery digits. Immediately, a flush of warmth wended through him, the Heat’s own power driving away the chill and drawing him ever closer until they were entwined together once more.   
  
“You looked troubled, little puddle,” the Heat said, voice muffled in their embrace. He drew back just enough that he could look the River in the face, his visage crinkled in a confused sort of worry. “Is this, uh… Is it something I might… help with?” His words spilled out, nervous but fond, his care as atrophied and disused as was the River’s hesitation but no less sincere for it. “I’m, uh… I mean, you can talk to me. If it would help. If you wanted.”  
  
There was something in that clumsy delivery that warmed the River even more than the Heat’s own touch, an awkward charm that brought a smile to his lips. He felt a laugh bubbling up inside of him as he dove forward, clasping the other tightly to him. “Who am I to pass up such an offer?” he whispered, replete with the Heat’s warmth, both inside and out. “_Thank you.”_  
  
“N-Not a problem!” The Heat’s stuttering words accompanied the River as he reigned himself back and he couldn’t help another chuckle sputtering forth. Oh, this Spirit… It was no lie to say that the River was completely enthralled by him.  
  
For his part, the Heat was staring at him, wide-eyed, something akin to awe or wonder smoothing across his expression. A quick shake of his head and a nervous chuckle and then he spoke up once more. “So, uh… What had you so down?”  
  
Even wrapped up in the Heat’s embrace, the River could not keep the shiver from running through him as he turned his face away. “I…” He glanced once more up to where his Father sat in the sky, nothing but a few, solitary wisps of cloud and the dim starlight accompanying him. He turned back to his companion, determined. “I was thinking of my Father.”  
  
The Heat flinched. _Flinched!_ As if a solid blow had struck him. The River felt the telltale tremble course through him from where the Heat’s hands rested upon his shoulders. “R-Right. Son of the… Moon… Right.”  
  
His words has distressed the Heat for all that they were true. But the River would not let him ponder his (no doubt) rather dark thoughts a moment longer. In an effort to distract him, he blurted out, “I have never met him, you know!”  
  
His tactic seemed to have worked for the Heat’s head whipped up, his shaking hands clenching down upon his form. “_What?!”_ The incredulity was clear in his voice.  
  
But the River only nodded. “I spoke true, yes. Never, not once since the moment I came to awareness, have I ever been in his presence. I know not what form he takes or his demeanor… I don’t even know his voice. The Moon remains as mysterious and out of reach for me as he is for any other so tied to the earth. I have never been able to reach him… and he, it seems, has never cared to reach _me,_ either.”  
  
The Heat said nothing, eyes still wide and staring. And so, the River continued on, a nervous babble falling from his lips. He regaled him of it all, of his Mother’s words, of his own doubts, of his attempts to reach his absent sire. He spoke of his desire to believe, of the cold comfort of the moonlight, of the bitter chill it sometimes filled him with. He laid himself bare, all his insecurities, draining himself down to the last dregs of his core.  
  
And a curious thing happened as he spilled himself out. Delving so far down uncovered something, a wound long since hidden, a rotting, festering thing, like so much carrion dropped within his banks. It sat there, a scar upon his mind, a laceration buried far beneath his waves. He had never even known to look for such a wound, was never made aware of how much it might have tainted him. But here and now, finally free to see the truth before his own eyes, he wondered how he could ever have missed it. Such a deeply lodged hurt, the severed end of what might once have been a relationship… The River gasped as it felt the sting of the air for the first time.  
  
A soft _drip drip drip_ echoed loudly in the still night air, the crystalline tears making their way unimpeded down the River’s anguished face. They shone with prismatic light, the glow of the Heat casting small rainbows across them both as they fell.  
  
But soft noises whispered in his ear, a steady hand cupping the back of his head and bringing it down to rest upon a shining shoulder. Soothing, glowing fingers carded through him, reassuring ripples reverberating across the whole of him.  
  
“Shh now, it’s alright, it’s alright, I have you.”  
  
The River could only shake his head. “It isn’t alright. I have been such a fool! This knowledge, it has been poisoning me for so long but I could not face it! Only let it sink deeper and deeper, weakening me with every passing night.”  
  
“Hey hey, none of that now. It is no shame on you to wish so for a father’s love. It is on him and him alone and that it would cause you to doubt yourself so is yet another sin I might pile at his feet. But it does _not_ make you weak!”  
  
“But I—”  
  
“No, no caveats! Not for the River, the bravest, kindest Spirit I have ever had the fairest luck to meet!”  
  
The River did not know what to say to such… _accusations?_ But the Heat continued on, nonetheless. “To think that _you,_ of all beings, could be considered _weak?!_ It is absurd.” Swift as the current, the Heat reached down, snagging the River’s hands with his own and holding them tight. “Such a betrayal… it digs deep, I know. But you _cannot_ shoulder the blame for another’s evil. Do not let him curse you as well, sweet River. Do not give him such a hold on you.”  
  
And deep within him, down down down where the wound had lain dormant, a blaze now formed, a steady, controlled gout of flame encircled by their hardened bond of affection and trust. There within the deepest reaches of him, a healing pyre burned away the rot, purged the poison, cauterized the wound.   
  
And it _ached,_ oh, did it burn! And though it now had the chance to heal, the phantom pain remained, reminding him of his loss. Or, rather… reminding him of what he had never had in the first place. Inside of him, the Fire remained, a dancing warmth, a burning aegis. And though he had finally faced the truth of his parentage, he was not alone in his grief.   
  
There upon his surface, the River surged forth and enveloped the Heat, the great, crashing wave of him enfolding the other within. No more tears fell as he faced his truth head on. And in his waves, the River caressed the Heat’s face with a fond tenderness, laying his forehead down upon the other’s. “Thank you!”   
  
The Heat reciprocated, stroking a hand along the River’s chin. “It is a brave thing, facing the truth of one’s own family,” he said.  
  
But the River only shook his head. “No. I can see now that… that he has never been a Father to me. And I can no longer honor him as such. I am a Child of the Sea, always and forever, but the Moon… he is a stranger to me. I have no ties to him like my Mother or my brother or my friend. Or… to you…”  
  
The Heat wrapped him fully in his embrace. “You have cast him away, then? No more a Moonchild?”  
  
The River let out a contented sigh, resting his head upon the Heat’s chest. “No more a Moonchild. I have found that lately… I much prefer the warmth.”  
  
The Heat looked down, that lovely, crooked smile upon his lips. “Don't need his help to see in the dark, eh?”  
  
“No,” he smiled, “there is no need. I have found my light.”

_______________

  
  
Up above the Moon still shone, a dispassionate light that could not penetrate the golden glow of the shallow basin. The Boulder looked on, his heart so heavy for the River’s grief. Such things as this would linger despite the admirable way the Heat had helped him through it. But they had time, they had hope and, most importantly, they had each other.  
  
The dark pools no longer looked the same, not with the Heat’s light illuminating them. The Boulder thought it apt and gave a little chuckle. To see the difference now, he only needed to look below the surface.

~~~  
  


_When the Earth was young and the Sea had formed,_   
_And the Moon filled the sky with his form,_   
_And the Sun rained down Her lifegiving Rays,_   
_Then did the first Seedling take root.  
  
_

_From his parents’ bosoms was he birthed,_   
_Where the Land met the Sea,_   
_Where the Elementals kissed,_   
_And in nourishment he grew, and in favor.  
  
_

_From Seedling to Sprout to young Sapling,_   
_He lived and he thrived in their care,_   
_In the strong arms of his Father,_   
_With his Mother’s song to lull him.  
  
_

_Time passed quickly by and he grew to great heights,_   
_And spread out his green-clad arms,_   
_So too did he spread himself as a great multitude,_   
_The life of him planted in each seed that fell.  
  
_

_From the Ocean’s shores and far across the Earth,_   
_The Wood grew steady and strong,_   
_And covered over the barren places,_   
_And filled them with life.  
  
_

_And for ages he reigned with the Sea and the Earth,_   
_And the three of them loved and rejoiced._   
_With his Mother and Father there by his side,_   
_He knew naught but the peace and the calm.   
  
_

_It was naught til the Breaking that all three were split,_   
_And the first touch of Flame licked his roots,_   
_And he cried out aloud for his parent’s embrace_   
_As he, helpless, succumbed to the Scourge.  
  
_

~~~  
  


"The Greenwood's Demise"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from Debussy's nominal work, [_Claire de Lune_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNcsUNKlAKw). I'm so glad I was finally able to include this song, it's one of my all time favorite songs. And though the moonlight in this chapter is presented in a rather sinister way, I still think the gentle melody is fitting. And also, let's face it, this song is just very romantic. ♥
> 
> As far as updates go, I'm going to be rather busy next week so there's no guarantee I'll be able to get chapter five out on Saturday... But I'll try my best! u^_^
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Cheers! ♥
> 
> ~Veil


	5. Gymnopédie

The sunrise filtered slowly across the crashing Sea, the dark, deep night sky littered with stars brightening violet and then on to a quixotic kaleidoscope of pinks and reds and yellows. From there, her steady beams carefully peeked over the horizon, glittering along the crests of the waves, venturing out and over, setting the whole sea alight. It continued its crawl, up and up, past the first grains of sand littering the beaches, past the long grass at its edge that swayed in the gentle breeze, past the ridges and the floodplains, past all varieties of trees. On and on her light shone until it crept upon the stony face of the Boulder there beside the wading pools, keeping watch over the two who slept within.  
  
“Up, my young friends, up!” he called, setting the still water to shake around them. The Heat immediately sprang up, glowing eyes wild, suspicious, head whipping back and forth as if he expected an enemy to emerge from the charred meadow. The River was slower to surface, languidly floating on over to rest his sleepy head upon the Heat’s shoulder. The Boulder gave a loud chuckle as the steam began to rise from them once again, the Heat glowing hotter at that gentle touch.  
  
“Come now, nymph, up you get.” A stern glare and another shake made the water Spirit sit up with a prolonged splash. He sent his ripples out across the warm pool, arising from the depths in a gentle wave. The Boulder looked to the Heat next. “And you, settle. The air is already a mist without you adding to it.”  
  
The both of them glared up at him from their pool, something the Boulder found great amusement in. “Ah, I have strengthened you against me, have I? Well, a unified front will be a great boon to us when the Lady arrives. You’re both doing very well.” And he offered them a jagged, crooked smile.  
  
Perhaps they would have commented then, perhaps not, but as the wind picked up and the long grass swayed, all three of them turned their sights to the east where a solid beam of light had focused itself. It grew brighter and brighter, more concentrated and solid, a luminescent stream of brilliance. The wind picked up even more and all around them, the trees swaying in the frenzy, dancing back and forth. The Boulder remained unbothered, content to sit and watch the spectacle, but he could feel his two companions as they sheltered at his back, the concentrated zephyr riding too rough upon the water’s still surface and forcing a grimace to their faces.  
  
And then, at last, the light began to dim and two figures stepped forth arm-in-arm. The Gale was immediately recognizable, his two-toned features a stark contrast beside the radiant form of his Mother. And _radiant_ she was, too.  
  
The Sun manifested herself not unlike the Heat, a white-hot being made from pure starlight. Less sturdy, she seemed, more ethereal, but the power she held within her grasp was immense and obvious. She was smaller than the Heat, though not by much, her figure slender, her hair a fiery wreath around her head. She bore none of his scars, as perfect and pristine as the day the Moon had formed her.  
  
“Well met, my fine Lady,” he called when at last her beams dimmed. And to the Gale: “And you as well, Lord of Winds.”  
  
She giggled at him, the corona of her expanding slightly in her joy. “Oh, hello! It has been an age, hasn’t it? I daresay you look… _different._”  
  
And perhaps she saw more than the obvious with that luminescent gaze, for the Boulder gave a creak of surprise at her words. He expected to be dismissed by her as the shattered fragment he was. Not recognized for who he had been. “I… I _am_ different, my Lady.”  
  
Another bright laugh. “So you say! But the heart of you remains, does it not? I’m sure she will not mind!”  
  
Were he as like the beasts that roamed through the land he perhaps might have gasped at her offhand statement. But he was rock through and through, and no breath flowed through him, only the sediment of ages past.  
  
Mercifully, she continued on without expecting a reply, for she turned to her son next, saying, “What was it you had called me here for again, love? You mentioned… something… What could it be?” She stared up to the sky, face pinched in confusion, one glowing finger tapping at her chin.  
  
The Gale sighed, the grass around him swaying. “Mother, please, we have gone over this numerous times…” A wild crosswind snapped across the meadow and from behind his form, the Boulder felt the River and Heat shift, finally stepping out from behind him. “We must discuss _them,_ Mother.” And he waved a hand in their direction.  
  
The Boulder may have been shaken by her words, but he could still see the trepidation in the Heat and River’s forms. They had climbed up upon the sandy bank, a rivulet still flowing between them and the water source. However, unlike earlier when the River had wrapped himself fully around the other, now he stood tall by his side, the current of him still flowing across the Heat but not enveloping him completely. They connected at their hands, the steam rising where the glowing warmth met the chill water. And, though they stood alone facing down two of the most powerful forces of the land, they still held their chins high, the glint of determination slicing through the muddy brown and glowing white of their eyes.  
  
The Sun was frowning at them, though it seemed more in confusion and less in disapproval. She squinted at them, brow furrowed, before turning back to her son. “They are very charming, sweetness. Did they want… my blessing for their union?”  
  
And in that moment, the meadow was filled all at once with the bubbling sputters of the River, the flaring Heat sending a cloud of steam from into the morning air, and the snap of the wind where the Gale had sunk his head into his hands.  
  
The Sun looked from one to the other in worry. “Oh dear, have I said something wrong?”  
  
Again, the Gale spoke, though his words were muffled by the gusts of his hands now. “Mother… _please_ focus. We are _here_ to try and _end_ the Fire’s rampage.”  
  
She only tilted her head. “The Fire?”  
  
And another sigh. “The _Meteor_, Mother?”  
  
From his sedentary spot, the Boulder could see the entire discussion. So it was fairly obvious to him that, when the Gale uttered that long-abandoned name, both the Heat and the Sun flinched. The Heat reeled back, surprise creasing his features.  
  
But the Sun… She gave a cry of dismay, her eyes darting to and fro across the windswept plain, the light of panic arresting her features. “No, no, no, my son! Where is he? No, I cannot face him, he would destroy me!” And she cowered then behind his windswept form, her shaking figure sending a plethora of flashing lights out like a beacon in all directions. “Where is my love?” she cried even as the Gale swept her into his embrace. “Where is my beautiful Moon?”  
  
Across from them, watching their interactions with wide, horror-filled eyes, was the Heat. His grip on the River had tightened, the steam now a dense cloud permeating the air. Slowly, each step weighing heavy with hesitation, the two of them approached, kneeling down next to where the Sun trembled.  
  
“What happened with the Meteor?” the Heat asked, the first words he had spoken to her since their clash eons past. They were just as filled with hesitation as his steps had been.  
  
She only trembled more, though. “He hates me, he hates me, he hates me—” she chanted, the dense corona of light drawn in close to her form.  
  
The Heat gulped, sparing a quick glance to the River. His eyes were wide as he witnessed the tableau, but he let himself rush across the glowing form of his partner, the coolness of him soothing his agitation and allowing him to continue. “Can you tell me… why you fear him, so? Are you not his better, more powerful by far? Are you not one of the First Beings, a mighty Elemental?”  
  
But she only sniffled in the Gale’s hold, shaking her golden head. “No, no, no, he was— He was— Blinding and terrible and so full of rage! Nothing like the lost brother my love had spoken of!” She began to dim in and out, the light of her flickering in a worrying manner. “I was so— So frightened! He arrived as if from nowhere, a trail of destruction in his wake! And when he set his sights upon me, _oh—!_ The anger of his eyes! So bright, so blazing, drowning out my own the closer he drew!” She stared up at the Heat then, a rictus of pain painted clear across her dimmed face. “I saw my death in his eyes. Had my love not driven him away, I surely would have perished.”  
  
The Heat all but collapsed at her words, his unsteady form only held aloft by the River. His own eyes were wide and he had begun to tremble as well, a match for the Sun, consumed in her terror. “I— I—” He stuttered over his words, the bite of shock in his voice.  
  
And the River, his own shock and awe being swept away in the wake of his partner’s struggles, spoke: “But what of your love, the Moon? You said he spoke of his brother but why regale you of him if you were to serve as his replacement?”  
  
At that, both the Sun and the Gale’s heads snapped to him, twin looks of incredulity on their faces. “_Replacement?!_” the Sun sputtered, her fear momentarily set aside in her confusion. She all at once seemed more aware, more _present, _than she had been since her arrival, that airy, vacuous light leaving her eyes. “How was I to _replace_ him? I could never have been a brother to him?”  
  
“Not a brother, no, but a light to be his companion, nonetheless,” The Heat spoke, a scowl pulling his features down and scrunching up the black scar across his face. “He certainly wasted no time in creating you after his brother left! He wished for a light of his own design, wished for it so badly he could not even understand how much his own brother sacrificed for him!”  
  
But still, more confusion. “What sacrifice?” the Gale queried, finally speaking up from where he had been shielding his Mother’s form. “He had been abandoned by the one he trusted most! Was my Father to just wallow in the darkness forevermore?”  
  
The River asked, “What do you mean?”  
  
But the Sun just shook her head. “I cannot fathom where you have gotten your ideas from. But my love only ever spoke to me of his lost brother with sorrow in his voice. He wondered why he had been abandoned, why he would set off alone and leave him behind. He had wanted to share my Light with him, to see him clearly for the first time. He spoke often of the Shard who had followed in his wake. And lamented that he had not been enough to make him stay.” She stood then, the glow of her finally returning, though she stayed within her son’s winds. “He had wanted… to craft the Light _for_ him. That he might find his own power there in the cosmos, that they two might be equals in the realms of the sky. It.. It was only after he had gone that the Moon thought to make me instead, a balm for his lonely heart.”  
  
But the Heat jumped to his feet, too riled to stay down. The River desperately stretched himself to steady his hold on the other, too far from his source to risk moving much further afield. But the Heat seemed unaware, instead rounding on the Sun and Gale. “No! This _absurd_ tale cannot _possibly_ be true! How could he who so claimed to love his brother have fought him so? Struck him down, wounded him grievously and cursed him to a life of pain and misery e’remore? How could such a thing be an act of _love?_”  
  
The Gale glared at him. “What, then? Would you also show love to the one who had abandoned you to the Void? Who, without warning, sought to strike down the only happiness you had managed to find for yourself in the aftermath? Who sneered and taunted and provoked until you were left with no other recourse?! Tell me, _Heat,_ what _should_ he have done differently?!”  
  
But before the Heat could fling more words of rebuttal, the Sun added, “My love did what he had to. When he returned, his brother was too powerful, a being of starlight like myself, but with a ferocious rage igniting his form. He was not like me, though we were crafted alike.”  
  
And though the Heat screamed “That’s _absurd!_” in the background, it was the River who managed to edge in the next words. “But you two _are_ of the same substance, yes? So there _is_ a way to control it? To break the curse and stay the flames?”  
  
And, though her form had flickered with the Heat’s enraged shouting, she still managed a thoughtful look at the River’s question. “I… I do not know, Water Spirit. From the very moment of my creation, I have always held control of the starlight inside of me. I do not think I can answer your query.”  
  
The Gale gave one last gusty sigh. “Then I suppose this venture was for naught. Mother, I am sorry you traveled all this way for nothing.”  
  
The glow of her was back in full force now and she gave that same, gossamer smile to him she had been wearing at the start. “No, no, darling, it is nice to see the life I foster from so close sometimes. And an old friend, too!” She looked towards where the Boulder still sat. “I am sorry if I ruined your outing with your friends, my sweet. Forgive me, please?”  
  
He gave a swirling laugh. “There is nothing to forgive, Mother. But I feel I ought to return you back home now. This has been quite enough excitement for one day.”  
  
“Oh, alright then. It was nice to meet you two!” she said, waving towards where the River and Heat were entwined. “I hope you find what you are looking for!”  
  
And as they turned away, readying to ascend back up far beyond the reach of the Earth, the Heat abruptly shouted, “Wait!”  
  
The Sun turned back to him, giving him a questioning look. “I…” he began, “just want to… apologize.”  
  
She tilted her head. “Apologize?”  
  
He nodded. “For… earlier. And for… for everything.” And he held out his palm, guiding in out of the River’s flowing grasp, and let the flames overtake him. He grimaced but the pain was bearable. Especially when she gasped, the light of recognition beaming from her eyes.  
  
“Y— You!” she shouted.  
  
“Yes. Me. It was never… about you. And I… find myself regretting that I made it as such. I don’t expect forgiveness. But I just want you to know.”  
  
He pulled his hand back into the sanctuary of his partner as she looked on in assessment. One long, sustained moment of silence and then—  
  
The Sun caught his eyes, glowing white to glowing white, and nodded with the barest of movements. And then, as quickly as she had appeared, she vanished and the Gale along with her, nothing but one last, cooling breeze to signify they had been there at all.  
  
The River turned to look at his companion, the sight of his anguished features twisting something up inside of him. He reached out and drew him back closer, wrapping himself around him once more and cooling his scorching skin. “We will find a way, my light. All is not lost.”  
  
And the Heat, so battered and flayed apart by the harsh truths he had learned on this day, fell back into his embrace, eyes shut tightly and fighting the flames that burned within him.  
  
______________  
  
  
“So that’s it, then? You’re just gonna give up now after going to all this trouble?” The steady tapping of the raindrops echoed loudly across the empty meadow. In the low light of the afternoon, the Storm had returned once more, eager to learn of what had happened after the Sun’s departure. And the Lightning, as always, followed in his brother’s wake, a steady rumbling denoting his approach as he struck down upon the land.  
  
But it was no joyous reunion to be had, oh no, for a sorry sight greeted their return. The Heat had settled down to a low, dim light, his form curled up upon itself and weight resting against the Boulder’s solid form. As was usual, their brother was at his side, ever the dutiful caretaker, embracing the other Spirit with a devastated look upon his face. Behind them, the Boulder remained as inscrutable as always and the fact that three of them were huddled together so made the whole thing seem even _sadder_ in some way.  
  
This was the scene they had arrived to, this melancholy tableau of hopelessness. The Lightning did not like it. He did not like the mein of his brother, brought low by this futile attempt at salvation. He did not like stoic sadness of the Boulder, the air around him as weighted and heavy as he himself. And the Heat…  
  
Well, he just did not like the Heat at all.  
  
The Lightning considered the volatile Spirit where he rested. The Heat was hunched down upon himself, completely engulfed within the River’s embrace, and seemingly content to, once again, let him fight his battles for him. The wretch could not even bring himself to acknowledge their arrival, so completely self-absorbed was he. The Lightning did not understand, could not fathom what depths his brother saw in such a being. Was he happy like this? Content with carrying the weight of all his transgressions?  
  
<strike>Did he not even care that this beast had sought to end the Lightning only yesterday?</strike>  
  
“She did not _know,_ brother,” the River said, interrupting the Lightning’s musings to answer his initial query. He had been the one to regale them of what had happened, the Boulder chipping in with a few added details. The Heat was silent through it all. “We… We’re _not_ giving up! But we just need more time to think of a different course of action.”  
  
The Lightning sizzled, tiny sparks shooting away from his form and into the sky above. “‘A different course of action?!’ And what if there is none to be had, brother? Would you spend the rest of your days keeping watch over this— this _brute!?_ Would you stand at his side for an eternity, keeping him from scouring the land?! Give up your _freedom_ for—!”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The Lightning stopped mid-word, flashing eyes gone wide at the River’s soft utterance. “I would spend my days stoking the gentle flame. I would stay always at his side, as a friend and companion. I would accept our entwined fate in a flash and be _glad_ for it, brother. But I will not — _not ever! _— abandon him!” His eyes were as cold and hard as his frozen-over banks in the bleak midwinter, each word like a shard of ice, sharp and serrated. There was no give to him, not on this matter, only the gravity of a solemn vow. “So please,” he continued, “drive that thought straight from you sparking head!”  
  
A hush fell across the meadow with the River’s last, reverberating word, only the steadily increasing rain serving as a backdrop. Beside him, the Heat had finally looked up, a complex mixture of shock and relief and devotion melting across his features. He reached out, his own, glowing hand curling softly around the River’s clenched fist, the ever present steam arising from their touch. And as he looked down upon the one he had chosen, the River’s eyes softened from the ice that had assailed his own brother, the thaw setting itself upon him immediately.  
  
The Lightning stood still as he never had before, no thrumming, nervous energy setting him aflutter, no chirping spark compelling him to move. He felt… depleted. Weak. As powerless as he had been yesterday facing off against this creature who claimed the River’s heart while seeking his brother’s demise. Could he not see it, the violence that the Fire embodied? Was he really content to tie himself to such a being for the rest of time? To side with this destructive force he had known for all of a day over his own family of _millenia?_  
  
For the first time in his long life, the Lightning had no words. He took a step back, hesitant in a way that was so foreign to his nature. He _always_ moved forward. He _always_ charged ahead. He was raw potential, pure momentum. He was motion. He was _Lightning._  
  
He retreated another step.  
  
A brush upon his arm made him turn and he beheld the Storm in his towering might. The steady drizzle that had been soaking the ground now came down in a heavy downpour as those blazing blue eyes stared him down. “Brother, no,” he said, “I know the thoughts must be darting through your mind but I beg of you, pay them no heed. We are all of us on the same side here.”  
  
But the Lightning only saw another ally flashing away. Another who would side with the monster who had tried to end him only a day prior.  
  
The Lighting always sought to move forward. But not this day. No, when he turned his back on them all, his way forward was instead a retreat. And with one blinding, deafening crash, he bolted, nothing but the heavy stench of ozone and the cries of his brethren left to signal his ever having been there in the first place.  
  
________________  
  
  
It was only once the Gale has returned his Mother to her heavenly home and made sure she had not suffered any ill effects from the revelation of that morning that he let himself drift back down. He had been aware, of course, of just who the Heat was and the relationship he had with both of his parents. But though she had always been.. flighty, whimsical, at times even vacant, the Gale had not thought his Mother would react so when she found out just who she had been speaking to. He despaired for her and her obvious torment, still so fresh and raw even after so long a time. And he wondered then if perhaps she was the way she was because of it, if she had been more stable once upon a time back when she was young, before this great trauma befell her.  
  
(He wished he could ask his Father such questions but he, as ever, remained silent to his calls.)  
  
But despite what may have been and what consequences there were, the Gale had never anticipated the Heat’s apology. His admitting to his wrongdoing and owning up to his fault in the incident. Though he hurt terribly for the pain his parents must have suffered, that more than anything solidified his decision to aid the destructive Spirit. The change in him was already so apparent, nothing like the mindless monster he had faced down before. At the heart of him, the Gale knew this was the right thing to do.  
  
But while he expected heavy hearts and desperate planning in the aftermath of his Mother’s departure, the scene of panicked grief he gusted in on was quite a surprise. “What happened?!” he asked, worry of his own seeping into his voice as the four of them looked his way.  
  
_But wait… Only four?_  
  
His thoughts were answered immediately by the weeping River. “M-My brother! He’s gone, Gale! I-I-I said the wrong thing to him, I made him think— I-I made him _believe_—!”  
  
“The Lightning has vanished, Wind Spirit. He seemed disturbed by our brother’s dedication to the Heat. You know his hasty mind, jumping distant and hasty to conclusions. We have not abandoned him as he seems to think nor chosen to side with the Fire against him. But it seems in his mind that the two are mutually exclusive.”  
  
“None of us can go after him!” The River jumped back in, now coming to stand right before the Gale, his face a study in remorse. He had never seen the other Spirit like this before, never in their very long lives. But he seemed completely awash in despair, the flow of him roiling like the maelstrom even here where he stood upon the land. The worry he had for his brother was a visible manifestation there inside of him and, even if the Gale had not already wished to go find his wayward friend, he would have agreed to it just from the sheer sorrow coursing through the River.  
  
Turning back to the Storm, he asked, “Which direction did he go?”   
  
The other gestured in the correct direction and the Gale spun, starring off beyond the trees in the direction of the distant, looming mountains. “Will you accompany me, Storm?” he sent back over his shoulder, turning his head to regard him  
  
The Storm hesitated a moment looking unsure but eventually, he shook his wispy head. “...No, Gale. I think he would not want to see me right now. But you? He always welcomes you. Please, may we ask… Will you speak to him on our behalf?” And he bowed low before him, the River following suit from where he stood at his side.  
  
The Gale was taken aback by such a gesture and quickly moved to bring them back up, a mismatched hand on each of their shoulders. “Please, none of that now. I promise, I will bring him back. You both know how touchy he can be but he always comes around in the end.”  
  
With a strike more reminiscent of their absent brother, the two of them surged forward, engulfing him in their watery embrace, the winds of him lapping the River’s flow into little eddies upon his surface and twisting the Storm up into a small cyclone. They both laughed then as they drew away, thanking him profusely as he turned to take flight. But he was stopped one last time, a burning warmth upon his shoulder.  
  
“H-Hey. I just wanna— I prefer to do this face to face but if it’ll help at all… Just let him know I’m so, so sorry. There’s no excuse I have for yesterday, that disaster was all on me. But I still wanna apologize. So— Yeah, bring him back.”  
  
The Gale nodded as that burning hand retreated. And while he once again marveled at kids how far the Heat has progressed in so little a time, he found his focus aimed rather more distantly. 

With a mighty leap, he jumped into the air, a great, easterly wind catching him up and guiding him high into the rainy sky. He would bring his friend back. He would bring the Lightning _home_. The Gale always did what needed to be done. It just so happened that this time, that was also what he most wanted, too. 

_~~~  
  
_

_The Moon beheld His Brother,_   
_ And the brilliance of Him, Shining,_   
_ And the Cold filled His heart,_   
_ And the cracks splintered outward.  
  
_

_For the Moon loved the Sun_   
_ And in Her Glow, basked,_   
_ And He cursed for Her lost Light, _   
_In the Blaze his Brother flaunted.  
  
_

_So chilled was His heart,_   
_ That the Coldness grew greater,_   
_ Even as He drew nearer,_   
_ His Brother's searing Heat.  
  
_

_Thus, the Moon fell to hatred,_   
_ And cast down His Brother,_   
_ With the sharp bite of Frost,_   
_And a curse upon His name:  
  
_

_"May you hunger, eternal,_   
_ And crawl through the dirt,_   
_ And consume all that you touch,_   
_ For only a glimpse of former brilliance.  
  
_

_"May you look up in envy,_   
_ To the heavens, henceforth,_   
_ And linger in the radiance of Sun and Moon,_   
_ Even your brightest light, dim in contrast.  
  
_

_"May your own flames bind you,_   
_ And your own skin, burn. _   
_ And may all Spirits flee, _   
_ Before this Mindless Monster, Fire."  
  
_

_With His foe now vanquished,_   
_ The Moon felt the Thaw,_   
_ As again He was replete,_   
_ Awash in the Light of the Sun.  
  
_

_ ~~~  
  
_

“The Fallen Star”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title for this chapter comes from the beautiful Satie work, [Gymnopédie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WfaotSK3mI). I adore this calm, methodical, melancholy-tinged piano piece and felt it would be very evocative of how I'm picturing the Sun here. Very sweet, very calm, very kind... but with an underlying sadness that tinges everything about her. This piece just seemed to fit. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience with me as I slowly put these chapters out. I try my best to meet my self-imposed, weekly deadline but sometimes I just can't get things to work like I want them to, so... No promises on the next update. But I will try! ^_^
> 
> ~Veil


	6. Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as of this chapter I’m going to be going back to conventional tags. This story has ended up so much longer than I ever expected and I wanna give people actual fair warning going in. I may have to add a few more later. But as of now, they’re mostly complete. 
> 
> As for the chapter itself, well… First off, apologies once again for taking so long. It’s probably safe to assume updates will be at least every other week from now on. But at least this is a nice, long chapter, even if I’m a little iffy on the presentation. Enjoy? u^_^

It had never suited the Gale, staying still. Remaining in one place for too long made him anxious, wary. He had been formed of such disparate forces, of the Sun’s warmth and Moon’s chill, of the day and of the night, and the stark contrast blended messily within him. He did not like being defined or _con_fined. He blew where he willed, slipping along and around and through the dominions of the other Spirits, playing along the Sea’s surface, skimming the Earth, taunting the River with short, little gusts. But by far, his favorite companions had always been the Lightning and Storm.  
  
Just like him, they felt more at home on the move, malleable, changeable forces of nature with no boundaries to keep them and no definite place to rest. The three of them worked well together, often moving across the land as a single unit, the Gale’s bracing winds urging his companions forward while the Lightning pulled ahead, leading the charge. And between them, the Storm rained down, thankful for their help as his heavy clouds skidded slowly across the sky.  
  
But it was not always for the Storm’s sake that the Lightning and Gale came together, oh no. When the skies were clear and faint wisps of cloud drifted light and airy across his Mother’s domain, sometimes the Lightning would seek him out. With no crashing bolts or booming thunder to sate his desire for havoc, the electric Spirit often found himself bored when his brother rested, an uncanny idleness overtaking him in the calm. And it was these times that the Gale had come to cherish the most.  
  
“Well well well, returned from knocking all the leaves down, eh Windy?”  
  
A smirk pulled up the dark half of his face. He had been gazing down at just that, the rich colors of autumn coating the world below in vibrant oranges and yellows and reds. He felt so strong this time of year when he could move unencumbered across all manner of terrain and savored every leaf that fell with a giddy delight. So it was with a wry lilt to his voice that he replied, “I was sure to leave some of them piled up for you. Target practice for when your brother awakens.”  
  
The snapping laugh that answered him pulled his face fully into a smile as he finally turned to gaze to his companion. The Lighting was truly amazing to behold, all the bright flashes of light moving through him and in him, highlighting his form with a radiant glow. He was as like the colors of his Mother’s sunsets, those shining works she painted every night to greet his Father’s coming. Or maybe more like his own self, a mosaic of shades cast from both of his parents, the perfect combination of them set to light and dark. The Lighting was like that but… sharper. A heated, snapping edge to his hues that made him feel so dangerous but so alive. The Gale wondered at how the Sea and Moon could create such a being so filled with cutting edges and biting warmth. He was such a departure from his colder, more subdued brothers. Such a wonder. The Gale reveled in his presence, both honored and glad to have drawn the attention of such a singular being.  
  
“Well, that sounds like a challenge, my gusty friend! I suppose I ought to practice so as not to disappoint you.”  
  
The Gale chortled like an ocean breeze through a cave. “You would need to work very hard to disappoint me, Bolt!”  
  
The Lightning tilted his head, glaring down at him with a haughty smirk. “Of course. It is because I am so very amazing. It is _impossibly_ difficult for me to fail.”  
  
The breezy snort that left the Gale could not be reined in if he tried. The Lighting, already so delighted with himself, soon fell prey to his own humor, too, joining in with his own chirping giggles. The two of them danced around each other, replete in their joy and happy in their choice of companion. It was times like these that the Gale cherished most, when he felt no urgent pull to move on, when he was free to calmly drift along with his friend at his side. No restlessness, no duty to perform. Only him as he wished to be with the Lighting at his side.  
  
A sharp bite made him look over to where the Lightning was nudging him. “C’mon, Windy, we have the whole sky to ourselves! What say you to a race, eh?”  
  
And the Gale, well used to being challenged to such out of the blue, turned his multicolored gaze upon his companion, said, “Yes, let’s,” with no hesitation and then flew off ahead, leaving his cursing competitor far behind. The Gale was well aware that he would never win, not even with such a cheap trick as this — the Lightning was, as ever, faster than him by every measure — but he exulted in it, nonetheless.  
  
As the Lightning pulled ahead, a wicked smile gracing his neon-lit face, the Gale thrilled at this Spirit, the only one who could match him in the skies, and gave into his defeat with a self-deprecating smile. He watches as the Lightning gloated, so haughty in his victory, so proud of his success.  
  
It had never suited him, staying still, not unless it was to watch the joyful Lightning as he crowed his victory to the skies. No, this he did not mind lingering for.  
  
  
____________________  
  
  
  
He heard him long before he touched down.  
  
It was always so easy to tell when the Gale approached, his gusting winds a gentle susurrus through the rustling leaves and swaying grass. With every stray breeze that folded around his form, the Lightning could feel the Spirit drawing ever closer, an anticipatory presence at his back like the electrical charge before the bolt. That feeling lingered there like static. It was easy to let it permeate the air and energize their interactions, to bring them closer and closer together…  
  
But never touching. Never completely.  
  
He sometimes wondered how it might feel, to reach out so intimately, their two oppositely-charged energies in rhythmic flux. The _power _between them, ebbing and flowing like the Sea he had been born of. And then when they drew near—  
  
The snap, the closed circuit, the _connection!_ The biting, burning plasma that exhilarated his very essence, made him smile wide in exultantation! He imagined it would feel much like the thrill of his bolts. Like the moments when the Lightning felt most alive, when he could harness the current, channel the charge. When he could revel in the feeling of doing as he had been created to do. On the rainiest night or the clearest day, whether they howled together with the Storm or played amidst the Sun-lit skies, that tantalizing sensation was always there. He wondered sometimes what would happen if he just reached out… and let it ignite.  
  
“I thought I might find you here.”  
  
That airy voice interrupted his musings but the Lightning did not turn to face his new guest. Instead, he kept his gaze forward, staring up at the mighty mountain looming in the distance and the barren, rocky waste stretched out before it. Even here, so far removed from the Storm, the crackle of him echoed as his bolts rained down in an erratic frenzy, the minimum cloud cover all he needed to create this chaotic dance.  
  
But even as he watched, the wind picked up, raising the dust from where it had settled and sending it billowing out into a voluminous plume. The Lightning held no breath within him but with the wind upon his lips he let forth a sigh.  
  
“Did my brothers send you after me?” he asked, the crackle of him dimming as he hunched further down.  
  
The Gale’s words were, as ever, decisive and truthful as he proclaimed with unassailable authority, “They did not.” With the whir of his winds, the Lightning heard the Gale settle himself nearer, coming to rest there beside him on the rocky outcropping that was his perch. “Which is not to say that I am unaware of what happened. Merely that I decided for myself that such a situation needs rectifying.”  
  
A wild, stinging bolt struck down in front so close that the very air vibrated through them and the Gale gave a shudder at the display of power. The Lightning merely huddled further in upon himself, saying, “Then this is the part where you tell me what an overreaction this is, yes? That I ought to be more _reasonable_ and _understanding_ and _overcome my reservations?”_  
  
Another gusty sigh, another whir of motion and then—  
  
“I _could _say as much, my friend. But it would do us both a great disservice.” The Gale had moved even closer, the soothing, steady winds of him caressing the Lightning’s balled form, the air currents moving in and around and through him, easing his tension and soothing his woes. He was inundated completely in the Gale’s soothing touch and he could not help but let himself unfurl a bit, eager to feel it more intimately. “Truthfully, I came here for _you_, Sparky. I am _here_ for you. And if you should like to regale me of what happened or explain your reasons, I will sit here and listen. If you should like to rage across the land or race me through the skies, I will meet you. And if you should like nothing more than to sit and wait and not say a word… I shall be right here beside you.”  
  
The Lightning turned to him then, incredulity in his flashing, red eyes, and—  
  
“Alright then, Windy, you have yourself a deal.” And with a flash he was off, climbing swiftly through the turbulent sky, a marvelous halo of light circling high overhead where all his bolts had converged upon him. “Come then, Lord of Winds! Match me here in your own domain!! **COME ON!!**”  
  
And the Gale? An entity of contrasts? The Gale stowed away his gentle breezes and fleeting touch and called then upon his towering gusts in all of their glory. Higher and higher he rode them, his winds tangling together and flowing and merging until suddenly the barren waste housed a cyclone of awesome power, a swirling tempest terrible to behold. With a challenging smirk playing upon his mismatched face, the Gale met the Lightning with a furious roar, the two of them clashing there amidst the dusty billows.  
  
Blow for blow, the two of them met, impossibly matched and dreadfully frightening. They wove between each other and through each other and hither and yon across the great expanse, the Lightning’s frustration and anger and sorrow made manifest in a rainbow of deadly light. The Gale kept pace with him, meeting him at every pass and the two of them tangled together, the flashing winds carving a path of destruction through the dry, barren land.  
  
“How dare they!” the Lightning called out above the deafening gusts. “How dare they choose that burning dreck over me! Does _my _life not matter to them?! Their own _brother?!”_  
  
The singing winds harmonized with his cries, his snapping screams crackling between the wild blasts. All reason had gone from him as he rained down destruction upon the decimated ground, the true and furious power of the Lightning Incarnate unleashed.  
  
“Was I naught but a burden to them all these long years, then?! A tag-along they could never seem to rid themselves of?!” He barreled forth as quick as light, a crackling discharge trailing his path. He dove down, riding the great bolt, a feral grin upon his incandescent face. “I meant _nothing!!_ Not to the River!! Nor the Storm!! Not even to _you!!”_  
  
And finally, the Gale saw fit to interrupt his diatribe. “Now that much you _know_ is not true, Bolt! You must know it deep within! I am here for _you!_ No other! And I would quell these wicked thoughts if only I knew how!” The cyclone raged around him, his winds urging him to continue the fight. And he would. For the Lighting’s own sake, he would be this devastating force for as long as needed.  
  
And perhaps the Lightning felt that resolve. Perhaps he felt that devotion. Or perhaps he had tired of talking once more and preferred to expel the jagged rage within him in another manner. But whatever his reasoning, the Lightning lost himself to the snapping current flowing through him and the strident thunder that followed in his wake. He let his element consume him completely, hundreds, perhaps _thousands_ of bolts now focused tightly upon his charging form. His shrieking fulminations echoed throughout the sky as he met the cyclone dead-on, the monstrous bolt he had harnessed parting the calamitous winds of his opponent. And then—  
  
There within the eye of the cyclone, where the winds were calm and the Sun was visible overhead, that is where they met once more. The Lightning had roared his fury to the heavens and the Gale had met him in his rage. But now that the two of them were face to face once more, the Lightning felt all the fight leave him. _He didn’t want to do this._ And the Gale, seemingly able to tell just from looking at him, opened his colorful arms to him, a beacon, a _promise._  
  
The Gale was so close, so impossibly near to every part of him, and the Lightning again felt that static between them, the leading edge of the spark, the prelude to the strike. Closer, closer, unimaginably closer they drifted, currents of wind and electricity flowing around them and within them and down into the very cores of their beings. And at last, he could resist no longer. With the very last bits of himself, with all the dregs of his mighty dominion, the Lightning reached out for the Gale, igniting that sizzling energy that had languished for so long between them. The Lightning loosed the edges of his control and released the strike. And then, the burning bolt flew down setting the very air ablaze. Through it all, they held fast to each other, a deep and flowing connection melding them together on a far deeper level than the physical. The Lightning drew breathe as the winds moved through him and the Gale felt the sparks setting his limbs to move. They who were two now lived within each other and they both marveled at the change.  
  
Around them, the cyclone calmed and the bolts ceased and an absolute quiet took hold there in the wasteland. And at the center of it rested the Lighting and Gale entwined in each other’s embrace.  
  
The Lighting was the first to break the silence. “...What was that?!”  
  
And as the Gale held him close, a mystified expression cast upon his face, he could do nothing but shake his head.   
  
Together they stood amidst the dust and debris, held fast in each other’s arms as it settled all around them. The Lightning breathed. The Gale sparked. And between them, the currents of electricity and air flowed easily.  
  
  
_______________________  
  
  
  
Since their creation, the Storm and Lightning had been inseparable, two symbiotic forces, stronger together than apart. At this point, the Storm felt he knew his brother’s mind almost better than his own. Certainly well enough to have seen his reservations when the River first begged them for their help. But the Lightning followed through, regardless, his loyalty and support for his sibling winning out against any misgivings he might have had. The Lighting loved the River enough, had enough confidence in his and his brother’s power, that he went along with their plan and acted as the catalyst for it all, igniting the Fire with his heated touch.  
  
But when it all backfired as he had predicted… that is when the splits began to form. Where before was loyalty, now was wariness. Where before was support, now was suspicion. The Storm could see it clear as day, the squall forming between them all.  
  
He could not help but feel somewhat responsible for yesterday’s debacle. It was he who had dragged the Lightning down with him, he who advocated on the River’s behalf, he who had encouraged and pushed and prodded the electric Spirit into going along with this foolhardy plan. 

He who hadn't been strong enough to fight the Fire off. 

It had been the _ Gale _ who had stood between them and the _ Boulder _ who had stopped the Fire’s rampage and the _ River _who had placated him. What did the Storm do? Nothing. He had let himself fade out, had rained too fiercely and too hastily down upon the meadow. He had expended all of his energy in his eagerness, in his desire to help, and saved nothing back for if the Lightning’s predictions came true. He was a fool and he had put his brother in danger and now they were all suffering the consequences.

The Storm knew the Lightning’s mind. And he knew what he felt now was betrayal. And though he understood the River’s passion and sympathized with the Heat’s plight, he could never fault the Lightning for such feelings. Impulsive and dramatic and quick to anger though he was, the Storm loved him. And in this instance… he was justified in his actions.  
  
Reaching out to the furthest parts of him now, the Storm was relieved to feel his brother, still. There on the very edges of his perception, he felt the spark, the very air charged with his presence. A furious wind swirled along the wispy edges of him, a sure sign that the Gale had managed to track down the wayward Spirit. But they were both moving away, further and further from his range. And when at last they faded entirely from his awareness, the Storm could only sit and wait and hope for the best.  
  
“Is he alright?” the River asked again, a steady repetition since the Gale had departed them.  
  
The Storm did not begrudge him his worry. The River had been the first of them created, grounded and corporeal in a way his brothers had never quite understood. As such, he seemed to have appointed himself as their champion and protector, though he could never join them in their sojourns. He made up for his lack of freedom by doting on them whenever they reunited and also by worrying for them when they inevitably left him behind again.  
  
Looking at the River now, the swift currents of him flowing in uneasy whirlpools all along his form, the Heat beside him doing his very best to soothe that agitation, the Storm did not have the heart to refuse an answer even though his query had not changed from the last nine times he had asked. “He’s fine, my brother. The Gale has found him and I’d venture they’re busy working things out even as we speak.”  
  
But instead of soothing the River’s worries, his answer only seemed to escalate them. “You _‘venture?’ _Can you not tell?! Can you not see him!? Has he vanished?! Is he in trouble?!”  
  
The steady patter of rain increased for just a moment before the Storm mastered himself once more. It would not do to grow irritated at his kin, especially not now when they had already lost their third to such anger. “Peace, River, peace,” he began. “They have wandered far, even past the range of my substantial senses. But—!” He cut the River off as he attempted to speak again. “—the two of them are together. I felt them both before they absconded. Let us allow them their privacy and put our trust in their return.”  
  
His brother looked as if he desperately wished to argue his point but before he could edge in another word the Heat beside him reached out, his glowing arms coming up to wrap around the River’s agitated form. “Easy, easy, little puddle, please don’t fret so.” He glanced away for a moment, an intent look upon his luminous face, before he said, “Your brother, he burns hot. And I know well the feeling of such unrelenting rage. But he strikes quick and hard and doesn't let himself linger. Do not fear he will be lost to the flames.”  
  
Their temperamental brother, so quick to anger, had found plenty to fault them for over their many years together. But it is as the Heat said: a flash, a spark, one bombastic overture, and then… Forgiveness. Healing. The harmony between the three of them, free-flowing once more. It had happened time and time again. For all that the Heat was new to their party, he understood the interplay between them all so well.  
  
The Storm looked up then as, upon the edges of his awareness, he felt a great force. Snapping his eyes eastward, he shuddered as a great vortex of power entered his perception. This raw energy felt… familiar. The Storm tried to assess it, reaching out to the swiftly moving node that was charging back their way. He felt the winds ravaging his thunderheads and the thrilling charge that crackled between their spires. As if two separate forces moved in unison, a singular unit of power setting the land to thrumming with their combined supremacy.  
  
The Storm stood there in the sodden meadow, awed and amazed, staring up to the sky where from behind the cloud cover there emerged two figures, hands joined. They rode the gusts in a spiraling whirlwind, both completely at ease at the center of it. Intermittent sparks shot from the gyre as it neared the ground, striking out at trees and grass, one errant bolt even striking upon the heavily frowning Boulder who scowled mightily at the jolt. He heard a gusty laugh emerge from the one figure, now clearly recognizable as the errant Lightning, as beside him, the Gale smirked.  
  
“Apologies, you old rock! We’re still getting used to this!” the Lightning called, not looking apologetic in the slightest. In fact, he looked _euphoric._. Thrumming with energy, crackling in delight, ever moving in a careless spiral through the Gale’s swirling gusts. He looked… happy. “You’ll have to excuse us if we—” And another, jagged bolt slammed against the wet stone. “—chip at you a bit.”  
  
Even as the Lightning taunted, the Gale held out his hand and the chaotic bolts circled along it, dancing in a colorful spectacle all across his form. The two moved seamlessly together, the currents of air and electricity running concurrently all throughout them.  
  
The Storm had seen them at play countless times. But he had never seen anything like _this._  
  
“Easy, Sparky, settle down.” The Gale’s words were so full of affection and warmth as he clasped the Lightning’s hand tighter in his own. To the Boulder, he said, “We actually _are_ sorry, esteemed Spirit. He’s doing it to provoke now but that first strike was an accident. It is… difficult, managing this level of power.”  
  
For his part, the earth Spirit let out a grinding rasp, shifting with a deep bellow of hollow stone. He stared the two down, the Gale swaying back and forth in a steady breeze, the Lighting circling him with indefatigable energy. “You two want to elaborate on that statement?” the Boulder asked, the sheen of the sparking squall reflecting off his cobalt eyes. “What _‘this’_ are you still getting used to?”  
  
The Lightning scoffed, air passing through him like a harsh, buzzing exhale. “Beats me, Rocky. We were… having a _discussion— _(“We were fighting.” “Shut up, Windy!” “Then tell the truth!”) —when we just kinda… combined? Sort of? I guess?”  
  
The Gale nodded. “I reached out to him and he to me. There was a flash and we connected and then… Then I could _feel_ him. Like he was a part of me. And I of him. I feel as though we are linked now, that his electricity flows within me—”  
  
“—And that his wind is my own. Like, watch this!” And the Lightning reached up, a look of intense concentration upon his flashing face. Around his hand, the air began to stir, visible gusts bending his own bolts around in a flowing pattern and setting the grass before him to swaying even more harshly. He laughed, another delighted crackle, as he looked back to where his partner was watching.  
  
The Gale smiled so gently then, watching the Lightning manipulate his own element. Closing his eyes, he raised his own hand skyward where a bright, blinding bolt crashed down from the heavens. The Lightning surged forward in unbridled glee, wrapping himself around the Gale in an elated embrace. The two of them laughed together as an awed hush fell over the meadow.  
  
The Storm was astounded. He had never seen such a display like this, never in his lifetime. Of course, the Spirits worked together. The peace of the land relied on all of them coexisting, pushing and pulling as nature demanded, aiding each other when needed, filling in each other’s weaknesses. He thought of how slowly he would move across the sky if he were left to his own devices, no Lightning to goad him forward, no Gale to motivate him from behind. He was much familiar with the symbiosis of the land. But this? This was something entirely different.  
  
He looked over to where his companions stood, the River somewhat shielded by the Heat but both of them holding a glint of awe in their eyes as they stared at the display. As the Storm watched, the Heat seemed to be urging the River forward, the both of them inching their way up to where the Lightning and Gale were still giggling together. And it struck him all at once that, while this was a joyous occasion, that he was happy his brother had returned and had done so so jubilantly, there were still grave matters to attend to. Ones that could not be allowed to fester. And so, he followed behind them, sinking down low to match where his brother and the Heat had prostrated themselves.  
  
The chirping whine of the Lightning increased as they moved closer even as the noise of the wind died down. “Well, what’s this, then? The welcoming party?” The Lightning’s words were harsh and snapping and the Storm sank further down into himself.  
  
And though the River had been so hesitant to approach, he spoke up with no hesitation. “My brother. I am so… _so_ sorry for my words to you. I never meant to imply your suffering meant less to me than anyone else’s. You have every right to be angry with me. But even if you know nothing else of me… know that I love you. _So much._ And I am grieved to have ever made you doubt it.”  
  
The River had always been the speaker between them, his sincere way with words an boon both his brothers had taken advantage of on more than one occasion. The Storm was not an orator. He had never been good at rallying them together or planning their enterprises or conveying his emotions. And so, off the back of his older brother’s heartfelt apology, the Storm only nodded and spoke up: “I feel the same, brother. I am sorry for my part in all of this.”  
  
He could hear the Lighting flashing back and forth, his agitation translating into motion. “Yes, yes, feelings and such.” A heavy pause. A distant rumble of thunder. And then— “A Storm does not belong on the ground, brother.” And he felt a great wave of relief as he looked up and saw the Lightning smirking at him. A smirk that shifted to the figure beside him— “Although, River, you can stay down there. You should feel right at home in the mud.”  
  
With an exasperated laugh, the River arose in a sweeping tide and gathered the two of them up in his waves. He cradled his brothers close to him in his warm, steady embrace. The Storm felt a laziness fold over him as he was inundated by the River’s watery currents, the clouds of him darkening gray. The sharp bite of static crackled through the three of them as the Lightning laughed again, that delightful energy that the Storm knew so well. He brought his arms up and around his siblings, his vibrant, blue eyes falling shut as they drew close, their three heads resting upon each other within this watery sphere.  
  
But that curious warmth still seeped through the current and, as the Storm drew back, he espied the Heat still huddled upon the earth, his form still tied to the River’s by a thin stream. He heard the Lightning scoff as the water receded and he drew back. “Oh? And what do _you_ want, then? Here to pour your heart out, too?”  
  
He spoke not unkindly. In fact, the tone was remarkably level for their tempestuous brother. But even still, the Heat seemed to curl tighter in on himself. “I’m not here for some big declaration or to beg your forgiveness,” he said. “I know I did wrong. I lost control. I put you all in danger. Sorry doesn’t cut it.” From beside him, he saw the River reach out, swiftly falling to his knees to embrace the Heat’s kneeling form. But the fire Spirit continued on as if he hadn’t noticed. “I don’t need you to forgive me. But even if it doesn’t matter… I _am_ sorry. And I don’t… want my own wrongdoings to come between you and your family.  
  
“So yeah… That’s all I have to say.”  
  
All around them, the rain still beat down and the winds still gusted. The thunder rumbled overhead and the earth shook with its vibrations. The water flowed quick and full down the muddy banks and a heady, summery warmth inundated the air. From one moment to the next, nothing much changed. And yet… Something seemed different between the six figures there in the meadow. The River remained where he was, kneeling over the Heat, almost seeming to shield him with his embrace. Above them, the Gale stepped forward, enfolding the Lightning back into his calming winds. The Storm and Boulder remained still, silent watchers to the events happening before them.  
  
They rode the pregnant silence for what seemed like an eternity until— With a harsh bang and a deafening crack, another bolt crashed down in the meadow, striking the Boulder atop his sedimentary head. As he sputtered, the Lightning bent forward, clapping his hands together to echo the thunder in the distance. “Well, this is a fine dilemma you’ve put me in. How am I to hate you after a speech like _that?”_ He heaved out a put-upon sigh, looking for all the world like their Mother after she assessed the aftermath of another of their foolish endeavors. “And I suppose… I should apologize, too. For, y’know… goading you and all that.”  
  
Both the Heat and River were staring up at him, comically matching looks of shock on their faces. The Storm could sympathize. It was rare for the Lightning to admit when he was at fault. This was an unexpected showcase of maturity from him and the Storm felt a great well of pride in his heart. Behind him, the Gale also looked pleased, nuzzling his head against the Lighting’s with a contented smile. Even the Boulder paid little mind to the new scorch mark atop his head, instead opting to gaze upon them with a look of keen-eyed assessment, gaze narrowed as if contemplating something monumental.  
  
“And now?” the earth Spirit asked. “We are all allies here once more. What now?”  
  
The River and Heat rose back to their feet, still holding each other close. The Lightning and Gale had moved to clasp hands once more, though their impressive display of power from earlier was greatly diminished as they gazed off into the distance.  
  
“Our plan is still the same,” the River said after a hesitant pause. “We must find a way to break the curse upon the Heat. To allow him his freedom once more.”  
  
The Gale tapped his chin. “Yes, speaking of that… There is something I’ve been wondering. How is it that you can stifle him as he is now, River?”  
  
“I… I don’t rightly know. I…” The River gazed upon his companion, eyes full of wonder. “It just felt like… what I needed to do. I couldn’t bear to see him suffering. I reached out and… my touch soothed his flames.” His muddy eyes rose to meet the mismatched ones of the Gale. “Where are you going with this? Are you saying… that _I_ might be able to break the curse upon him?”  
  
The Gale and Lightning looked at each other. “Maybe?” the Lightning said. “If it was placed upon him by our Father, maybe you have that power within you to unlock it?”  
  
The Boulder rumbled. “Perhaps you sought out the wrong Elemental, little Spirits. Maybe one closer to home would be of greater help to you.”  
  
"The Moon would not heed us. He never has." The River furrowed his brow for a moment before he gasped. _“Mother?!_ But she _hates_ the Heat! She all but flew into a rage at the mere mention of him!”  
  
The Boulder gave a crackling shrug. “But she may be your only chance. If there is something there within you that would allow you to aid the Heat, would you not take the chance to learn of it? I know you, little wave. I know you would risk your all for the ones you care about. And who better to make her see reason than you who has known her your whole life? Is this chance really something you can write off?”  
  
The Storm may have known the Lightning better but he was no stranger to the River’s nature, either. And as he reached down to clasp the Heat’s hand tightly in his own, as his brown eyes glared with a hint of frost. As a thick steam between them began to occlude the meadow until the Gale swept it away, the Storm knew his decision.  
  
“No. I can’t,” he declared, determination lacing every word. “I will speak with her again. As you said, my dear friend: my all for those I care about.” And he leveled a significant glance the Heat’s way.  
  
And the Storm may be no great orator but it took no effort at all for him to step forward. “I will be at your side, brother.”  
  
And, not to be outdone, the Lightning surged forward, too, dragging the Gale with him. “And I! She cannot dismiss _all_ of us, surely? Oh, and maybe she can explain what happened to us, too, eh Windy?”  
  
The Gale smiled. “Let us hope so, Bright Bolt.”  
  
The River nodded. “Thank you all.” The currents within him flowed swift and strong as he stepped closer to where the Boulder rested. Reaching out, he patted the old Spirit’s weathered surface. “And I know you would join us if you were able, my friend. Thank you for your advice. You have renewed our hope.”  
  
Beside him, the Heat nodded. “Yes, thank you.”  
  
The Boulder merely smiled. “Good luck.”  
  
And as one, the Heat and River turned back to face them all, a heady determination in their eyes. “We shall meet you there, then.” The Storm and Lightning and Gale all nodded, the three of them slowly drifting upwards into the sky. The River turned to the Heat and said, “Hold tightly to me, my light. Let us not be separated.”  
  
The Heat smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”  
  
And then, together, hand-in-hand, the two of them plunged down beneath the River’s churning surface.  
  
The Storm watched the go with a canny eye. And as he began the monumental task of moving the great bulk of him further out to where the land met the Sea, he could not help but take note of how the Lightning and Gale clasped hands, too. Ideas swirled through his head like the clouds he was formed of, the wispy, cirrus threads of thought racing through his mind. He wondered if there was a connection in there somewhere, in the Lightning and Gale’s mastery of each other, in the tempering effect of the River over the Fire. He wondered at the surety of the Boulder as he directed them his Mother’s way.  
  
The Storm wondered many things. It was only a matter of time now to see if they proved true.  
  
  


_~~~_   
  


_When the Fire first settled upon the shattered land,_  
_And the chaos descended to snuff out the peace,_  
_Then did both Sun and Moon gaze down, __  
_ _Upon the Earth, upon the Sea._  
  


_“A Warden is needed,” the weary Moon said,_  
_“One of balance and might who will temper the Flames.”_  
_And the shivering Sun proclaimed, __  
_ _“It is so, it is so.”_  
  


_And thus was the Gale first birthed to the skies,_  
_Child of Sun, Child of Moon, Child of Balance._  
_And thus did he grow in both wisdom and strength:__  
_ _Herald of Justice, Warden of Winds._  
  


_And so said the Sun to Her progeny, wild,_  
_“Be as like a sword and a shield down below.”_  
_And answered the Gale with all due deference,__  
_ _“It is done, it is done."_  
  


_And duty-bound by his Mother’s fair word,_  
_The Gale ventured down and encircled the world,_  
_And in every gust and in every breeze,__  
_ _Brought forth Order, brought forth Peace.  
  
_

_~~~  
  
_

“The Warden of Winds”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title comes from one of the greats, Beethoven himself. Specifically, his [Sonata No.17 Tempest 3rd Movement](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKkR4YFtyJk). This piece has a sort of frenetic energy that I really feel encapsulates the conflict of this chapter. Or, more pointedly, the conflict between the Lightning and Gale. 
> 
> Haha, I keep adding to the dang chapter count but I _think_ that we're drawing near the end now? Unless I diverge massively again, we should cap out at nine chapters and an epilogue? Hopefully? Oof, fingers crossed, lads. >_<
> 
> But, as always, thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> ~Veil


	7. Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [peeks in] u^_^ Well, hey there, folks. Been awhile.
> 
> Okay, first of all, I’m so sorry to anyone still reading this for my spontaneous hiatus. I never intended to let this sit for so long with no word. BUT! During my time off, I managed to (mostly) finish this whole fic. I only have a small bit more to write and some editing to do. So you can actually expect consistent updates now, lol!
> 
> You may also have noticed that I changed the title and description up a bit. There’s a link to the song in the A/Ns of chapter one if you’d like to hear it. It's one of my all-time favorite pieces and I feel it works so much better as a title than what I had before. 
> 
> Again, thank you to whoever is still reading this after so long. A special thank you goes out to [GoldenDaydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams) and [karasgotagun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzmckay/pseuds/karasgotagun) for helping me get back on track with this, even if it wasn't their intention. Credit where credit's due. I hope that these final chapters can at least partially make up for my absence. 
> 
> So, because it’s been so terribly long, I’ve done up a little summary here just in case anyone needs to jog their memory. Thus far: 
> 
> After a disastrous first meeting, the River decides he wants to understand what exactly is going on with the Fire. Despite warnings from... pretty much everyone, he convinces the other Spirits to help him. After the rekindling, the River finds himself inexplicably drawn to the Fire and discovers he can actual touch the other and soothe his flames, something the Boulder finds very curious. Some backstory happens regarding the Fire's curse and the Moon. During all this, the Gale shows up to make sure nothing bad will happen, the Lightning manages to insult the Fire enough to provoke him, and a confrontation is had in the meadow beside the River. The Crag quickly puts a stop to it, they all manage to get on the same page, and the Gale suggests they speak with the Sun to see if she can help them. But she ends up being too traumatized by events to be much use, except in giving them all a different perspective on things. Meanwhile, the River and Heat grow closer, the Lightning and Gale manage to form a rather bombastic connection with each other during a confrontation, the Boulder seems to know what that connection means and suggests they speak with a different Elemental about all of this, and they all set off to speak with the Sea.
> 
> ...Whew, that is about as summarized as I can get. Enjoy? u^_^

The water was deep, the current was swift, and the Heat marveled at the touch of it. Before yesterday, he had never known the feeling of being submerged. In fact, enveloped and consumed as he had been by his wicked flames, he had had no choice but to avoid such a fate at all costs; water was as deadly to him as he was to the Spirits of the land. But here and now, as he was dragged along by the force of the current, he felt a sense more like… surrender. Not the constant struggle against his own nature. Not the pain upon his body and upon the land. No, for the first time since before he had sought out the starlight and been consumed in turn, the Heat drifted easily, a weightlessness akin to the Void cradling him and holding him aloft.

And yet… so unlike the Void at the same time. He could feel the River surrounding him, bracketing him on all sides with his great, rushing waters. This was far from the nothingness he had been formed in, the cold, lifeless expanse of space. Nor was it the stifling orbit that he and his brother had once been bound to, ever in motion, ever apart. No, the River was so vibrant, so corporeal, a palpable weight pressing down on every part of him. He was all at once both weightless and encumbered. Free and constrained. Aimless and inevitable. He was at peace there beneath the surface, content within the steadily-warming waters of his dearest companion and determined to face what was to come alongside him.

The Heat smiled, reaching out one, glowing hand to pluck at the winding webs of fast-flowing water. The River caressed him back, a fleeting touch across his shoulders. “You handle yourself well within my banks, Spirit of Heat.” The River’s words echoed all around him, the entire force of him reverberating in time. “But can you handle… this!?”

And with a great rush of living water, the currents around him began to swirl, faster and faster in a frothy churn until the meandering stream was coated in eddies and rapids and whirlpools. All around him, the River laughed in delight, the bright, resounding peals urging the Heat to mirror him. The warmth that suffused him grew as they danced together, the River’s steady embrace guiding him safely through the seething stretch. The Heat felt him as if joined at the hand, the River pulling him along easily and with no hesitation.

He closed his eyes then, so full with the bright glow of their companionship that he could scarcely comprehend it. He trusted the River with everything he was; he knew he would not falter within his grasp. He focused instead on the sensation once more. The swift flow, the dizzying whirlpools, the cresting, swirling foam. And the current all around him like a physical thing, the strands of it woven together in a dazzling array. He reached out again, placing his hand upon the largest strand and—

“No!”

The River cried out as the mass of him shifted, the Heat’s eyes snapping open in a panicked terror. He had only a second to gather his bearings before—

He crashed firmly into a solid mass, the impact of it filling him with an icy dread. He cleaved to the surface of what he could now see was a large river rock, scrambling for purchase upon the slick, weathered stone. All around him the River teemed in a furious display and, like opening his eyes, the Heat beheld the true power and force of his companion in all of his raging glory. He felt the pull of the rapids, the chill of the ice-melt from the Mountain, the churning undertow snapping at his legs. The River was Powerful. The River was Mighty. And, as his grip faltered upon the stone, the River dragged him back down into his depths.

Upwards and downwards and in every which direction he was flung, cycling down, down, down as the foaming waters overtook him. He heard the River shouting from behind him and he reached out—

“Look out!”

—and felt the currents once more. He grasped upon the threads and pulled, ducking around a fallen tree trunk. He felt the River so keenly now, felt the obstructions arrayed before him; rocks and eddies and small, cascading falls. He closed his eyes again, feeling the composition of it all, of the flow and the branching currents and the obstacles. And, with this skill he had never before known he’d possessed, he navigated his way through to calmer waters with a masterful touch.

Fielding the last, thundering cataract, he let the pounding water drag him down, let himself flow with it into the deep basin below. And there he sat, heavy upon the riverbed, exhilarating in the sensation of what he had just managed.

“Heat! Heat, please! Are you alright?!”

His eyes snapped open and regarded the River there before him, worry readily apparent even in the dim glow beneath the thundering waterfall. But he not only saw him, he felt him as he moved, felt the shifts, the vibrations, the movements all around him. He, a splinter of the Earth himself, a Spirit formed of Void and starlight, comprised of heavy stone and minerals, set ablaze with stinging warmth… He swam with ease to the River’s side, wrapping the water Spirit’s own currents around them both like he had been born to it.

He could tell the River felt it, too, for his lovely brown eyes widened as they came together, embracing each other in the muddy depths. “How… How did you do that?” he asked. “You pulled yourself along like you could feel the flow of me. Like I was yours to guide?”

The Heat drew back, glowing eyes sending dancing caustics across the River’s face. He traced one down across the other’s cheek, smiling as he leaned into his touch. “I could feel you. All around me. I could feel the ways you moved and I reached out and… and I touched upon your currents. I don’t know how, River. But even as we separated and I feared I might be carried away, I could still… connect with you. _All_ of you. And you guided me to safety.”

The River was clearly shocked by his declaration, opening and closing his mouth like one of the nearby fish that swam amidst the depths. “I… Even my brothers could not know me so intimately. The only one who has ever affected the flow of me so acutely is my Mother, and even then it has been… a very long time. And yet… And yet, you take to me so easily. You know me. Better than any other. You—” He lifted his hand, twining his fingers through the Heat’s, and clasping them tightly. “—make me feel as if I am more than what I was created to be. As if we together are something greater.”

He leaned his head forward, letting it come to rest upon the Heat’s. The cool water and the soothing warmth mingled between them, tiny rainbows of color springing forth where they touched. The River closed his eyes and smiled. “I swear I can feel you always, a searing flame dwelling in the depths of me. Like you are a part of me. Like I have always known you.”

“I feel it, too,” the Heat spoke. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The River smiled, the breadth of it laced with overflowing affection as he drew back from the Heat’s embrace. Leaving their hands linked, he pulled the other along. “Which is why I will fulfill my promise to you, my light. To free you of your curse. So that we might both be unfettered. So we can find for ourselves all the ways we might come together. Yes?”

And the Heat, who had been cursed to a life of pain and death and misery for coveting too much? He found those shallow yearnings of his past could not even compare to the depths of desire he felt at such a proposition. To have the freedom to choose the River on his own with no threat hanging over their parting? Or… to allow the other Spirit his freedom, should he consider his duty done? It was without hesitation that the Heat answered: “Yes.”

Soon, they would face the Sea. Soon, they would have answers, for good or ill. Soon, they would be parted, by design or necessity. As they both continued on, moving in unison towards the vast ocean where the Sea made her home, the Heat clasped the River’s hand tight.

Come what may, they would face it together.  
  


_________________

The cresting waves and golden sand brought such conflicting feelings to the River. These were the waves where he had been raised, the churning depths of his Mother’s waters just as familiar and welcome to him as his branching streams snaking across the land. Upon this very beach, he had felt the dry land for the first time. He had watched his brothers take their nascent steps here. He had spent long nights upon the golden sand, gazing up at the Moon and listening to his Mother’s stories. This place was a home to him.

Looking over to where the Heat floated beside him, he wondered if it would remain so after today.

“When we approach, speak not, my light. My Mother, she is not easily roiled. But she is quick to anger at even the mere mention of you. She would never harm me but I cannot assure the same goes for you.” He squeezed the Heat’s hand still held tightly in his grasp. “She is not unreasonable. I have a hope that we will be able to make her see our plight. But… Above all else, I would have you safe.” He locked his brown eyes with the other’s, pleading. “If she should turn against us, I would ask that you flee. Please, Heat. Promise me.”

“What, and leave without you?” Incredulity laced his tone, obvious for anyone to hear. “You know what that would lead to. Without you— Without you, I am nothing but a monster. I would rather face down the Sea herself than become what I was before.”

The River was unmoved. “If you could escape, I would at least know you are safe. And you have friends now. The Storm, the Lightning, the Gale, the Boulder. My Mother cannot contain them and they would aid you until we are reunited.” A bitter regret flowed through him. “I despair that you would be forced to endure the flames once more for I know the pain they bring you. But I promise you, my light. I _promise_ that I will return to you. It will not be forever that we are parted. Alright?”

A long moment passed between them and he could feel their points of contact growing steadily hotter the longer they lingered. The Heat was angry. It was apparent in every line of his body. Around them both, a heavy stream swayed in agitation.

“You ask much of me, to wish for me to abandon the only one who makes this world bearable,” the Heat spoke at last. “It has only been in your embrace that I have known anything but ash and ruin. It is only by your touch that I have felt life all around me, not just the bitter bite of death. I have labored long and for all the wrong reasons… But you, River, you have given me peace.” He closed his molten eyes and drew the other Spirit into his arms, a reciprocal embrace as the two flowed together. “I would do whatever you desired of me… except this. I will not risk killing again.

“And you know that part of me, my sweet stream. The very night we met, you saw me at my worst. I am untamed, unruly, unyielding as the Fire. All fall before me whether I wish it or not.

“And so I say, if we must face the Sea, we shall. For I would rather return to an endless sleep than live another day with this curse upon me.” A small smile graced his lips. “See now? You’ve gone and taught me compassion. Now I can never put my own life over another’s again.”

The River clung hard to his companion, a rictus of pain rippling across his face. “Blame yourself for that, my light. You were already in possession of it when I encountered you.” As the Heat let slip a small laugh, the River pulled back to stare him in the eyes. “If you meet your end again, will you remember me?”

The Heat looked solemn. “You know as well as I there’s no guarantee. Some memories are always lost. But I…” He looked thoughtful. “I feel as if it would be impossible to. You have sunk yourself so deep within me that I’m certain not even death could destroy us.”

The two of them closed their eyes as the rapids swirled around them. A soft steam rose again from the churning water as they leaned their foreheads against each other, hands clasped at each other’s chests. Within them, a steady beating sounded, a rhythmic pulse like the heartbeat of a mighty beast. The River focused on the warmth that always seemed to reside inside of him these days, the pleasant flames that burned unbothered by his rushing waters. They reminded him so of his companion, of the glorious Heat he had come to cherish with all his being.

He had to believe in the truth of the other’s words. He had to believe that this Spirit would return to him if the worst should happen. Even death would not part them. He would not allow it.

Drawing back, the River smiled. “Alright then. Together. But please, at least promise not to provoke her. I would ask you to trust me to speak in your stead, just this once.”

The Heat snorted. “Little puddle, feel free to speak for me always. I have none of your charm to draw from.”

The River laughed. “Well, that is true. Perhaps it is lucky then that I am so enraptured with charmless beings.”

They laughed together as they nodded to each other, now fully in agreement. With one last, lingering glance, the River climbed up upon the sand with the Heat at his side, foregoing his estuary in favor of meeting his Mother upon the dry land.

He stared up at the overcast sky, noting the swift Gale and flashing Lightning flitting about overhead. They stopped their dance only long enough to give them both a reassuring wave before resuming. A glance out towards the endless horizon brought him a glimpse of the Storm, too, his reach extending out across the watery expanse, no doubt calling to their Mother to emerge from her depths.

Like the thin ice before the thaw, the River could feel an air of anticipation brewing. The surf crashed upon the sand, the flashing clouds stirred overhead. The essence of him felt… tense, a tingle of electricity filling him with a nervous energy. The heavy scent of petrichor was carried down by the swift winds and his very thoughts swirled like the maelstroms of his Mother’s domain. Would this yield a satisfying result? Would the Sea have an answer for them, something they could use? Would she heed their questions of a subject she was so averse to? And, perhaps most importantly, would she know the Spirit at his side was the Great Calamity who stirred her ire so? Would she recognize him, muted as he was, encased in the living waters of her own son? Would she stare upon him with knowing eyes? And, if so… what would she do?

A dissolution of serene warmth flowed through him as he shook himself from the gyre of his thoughts, a calm settling over him in its wake. He knew its source and was thankful for it. “Stay safe,” he remarked to the Heat.

And just in time, too.

The diaphanous mist that had coated the shore grew thicker and heavier, light drizzle becoming steady rain, becoming punishing deluge. He felt the sizzle of the Lightning touch down at his side, the Gale following close and surrounding them in his blustery gusts. From the heavens, the Storm descended, his every-shifting form powerful and imposing as he held rule over the squall, electric blue eyes flashing in time with their brother’s strikes. He landed beside the Heat, never shifting his gaze from the angry, churning waves that flicked frothy seafoam high into the air.

And so it was that at last she emerged: with a great cacophony, the waters retreated from the shore, a gargantuan wave devouring all in her path. The towering wall of water moved closer to them, even blocking out the oppressive rain as she leaned down to gaze upon them all with her bottomless, whirling eyes.

The Sea had arrived.

“My sons,” she said, voice a resonant rumble, a reminder of a childhood rocked in her waves. “And others.” Assessment was heavy in her tone and she regarded the Gale and Heat. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you all here?”

Before the River could even agonize over what to say, his brother stepped forward, the brave and bold Lightning, dragging the Gale along at his side. “Mother! We have questions!” He bounced and sparked, a palpable energy infusing him, and with a great leap, he and the Gale were airborne once more, hovering before her face with a mercurial whimsy.

She smiled indulgently at the both of them. “What sort of questions, my little spark?”

His words crackled with excitement. “Big ones, Mother! Like… like this!” Coming to a screeching halt, the Lightning waved his arm, a mighty gust of wind sending ripples across her riled surface. Smiling over at the Gale beside him, the Lightning nodded. A static filled the air from the churning clouds overhead as a great crackle resounded, the bolt striking down upon the beach where the Gale had directed it.

She drew back, startled, before leaning in even closer to where the two of them hovered. “What… have you done?” She sounded just as mystified as she looked. “How have you come to know this power?”

The River watched as his brother cartwheeled erratically, his intrinsic caprice apparent in his every action. Steady gusts of wind blew out from around him, sharp blades of air laced with electrical current that skidded across the Sea. Their Mother did not react, that bewildered look of awe still molding her features.

But her question could not go unanswered and so the Gale moved forward. “There was a pull between us. An energy. We were fully immersed in our powers, at one with our domains, when we connected. And I felt him within me like an extension of myself. Like… like I _was_ the Lightning—”

“—And like I was the Gale!” The electric Spirit had stopped his vigorous sprints, now leaning himself over the Gale’s back, a hand on each shoulder and his sparking head resting upon his companion’s. He grinned up at the Wave as he nuzzled the Gale, a smile stretching across both their faces.

Without prompting, her waves began to crest and fall, the steady wall of water breaking apart and reforming. The River scrambled back, moving up the embankment so as to keep the Heat out of her swells. Beyond the eclipse of the Wave, he found shelter in the Storm’s steady rain, their waters connected enough to keep him strong against their Mother’s rising tides.

But she paid them no heed, her focus still steady on the Lightning and Gale. “You are soul bonded,” she remarked at last, her deep voice sounding much less commanding than the River had ever heard it. “An unheard of feat for the Spirits of the land.”

“Soul bonded?” The Storm had taken that moment to move closer to her and she turned to gaze down at him. “What exactly does that mean, Mother?”

“It is as the name implies, my son,” she began, finally steadying her volatile tides. As she settled, her voice mellowed out, taking on the soothing, even tone of the stories she used to tell them as children.

“Long ago, the Four Elementals lived in harmony. And through their power, all the Spirits of the world came to be. Every one derived of them, of Earth and Moon or Sun and Sea or any combination therein. But of their bonds, two took root the deepest.

“For the Moon so loved and coveted the Sun that their very souls were shifted to fit. And of Earth and Sea, the same. And with the great power of their connection, they became linked as one, never to be parted.

“Thus were the first and only soul bonds established, a symbiosis more powerful than any other, strengthened by turmoil and the great love they shared between them.”

She turned her fathomless eyes back to the Gale and Lightning. “Or, at least they were the only soul bonds until this day.” She reached out, a massive pillar of ocean water gently caressing them both. “There must be a great love between you as to create such a thing. I am glad for you, my son.” And to the Gale she said, “And I am glad for you as well, Soul of my Son.”

All was still upon the beach as she withdrew her touch, the Lightning and Gale staring wide-eyed as she delivered her blessing upon them. The River glanced over at his own companion, their eyes locking in sync. The Heat clutched at where their hands were linked and the River felt that pulse within himself again, that vigorous, comforting warmth. He squeezed back, willing the other to feel him, too.

And he wondered…

Because this… _resonance_ that they had between them, these feelings of warmth and comfort and affection… They seemed so similar to how the Lightning and Gale described their connection. Like a fragment of each other residing within.

But could it be so? According to his Mother, this sort of thing was absurdly rare. And was brought about through strong, intense feelings of… of love.

Is that what he felt? Did he _love_ the Heat? What did it mean to love him?

Was it to protect him? Support him? Want to be around him? He felt as much for his brothers, too. For his Mother. For the Boulder. And yet, he had never felt such a ripple like this. Never felt as if another was a part of him before.

He looked into the Heat’s glowing eyes and thought perhaps he knew the answer. And even if it were not reciprocated, he still owed it to the Spirit to try.

With a nod, the two of them walked forward, the Heat at his back as he’d requested. “Mother!” the River called, the form of him melding with her powerful waves. “I also have a question!”

Like his previous talks with her, the River was soon scooped up high into the air, a childlike joy entering him as the Sea herself sat him up upon one of her water spouts. The Heat seemed not to enjoy the sudden lurch quite as much, though, as he had stumbled forward to desperately cling to the River’s back, arms tight around his steaming waist. The River patted his companion reassuringly as he stared up as the Elemental in all her glory.

“So many questions for me today. But first, one of my own: just who do we have here, my son?” She leaned down, her enormous face peering back to where the Heat trembled behind him. “I have never seen you come before me with any save your brothers beside you. And now—” Her gaze swung back and forth between the Gale and Lighting and himself and the Heat. “—I have two others to welcome!”

For a moment, she gazed down at the forgotten Storm, a small smile quirking her flowing lips. “Have you a secret friend you’d also like to bring forth, lovely gray sky?”

The Storm gave a quick denial as she laughed, a sweet, melodic sound that comforted the River in his anxiousness. Giving the Heat one last squeeze, he replied, “He is a Spirit of Heat, Mother. And a friend to me and my brothers.”

“A friend, you say? And can he not speak for himself? Even when he clings to you so?”

The River sighed. “Mother, you’ve quite frightened him with your antics. He is not used to being away from the ground. And he clings to me because of it.” He could feel the Heat tense behind him, his pride no doubt taking a shot for the River’s subtle obfuscations. He willed the other calm, hoping that he harbored some sort of influence over the other. Enough to get them through this encounter unscathed.

To her credit, she looked the slightest bit regretful. But nonetheless, she pressed on. “Oh come now, surely it wasn’t all that terrible. Here, step forward, my child. Let me see the Spirit who my sons have deemed worthy of their care.”

The River felt a dark wave of terror sweep through him even as the flame burning within him rose higher. The warmth of it felt uncomfortable now and he could feel the steam beginning to evaporate from his form. He glanced down from their high perch, a significant drop ringing their unstable platform. And from there, a good distance still to the delta where he met the Sea. They were surrounded, trapped, not even the Storm’s rain able to reach them from above the crest of his Mother’s Wave.

He squeezed the Heat’s hands where they were still encircled around him, slowly prying them apart. “Fear not, my light. I have you. I won’t let you go,” he said, keeping the fear from his own voice. It was not fear for himself in this moment, no. He had absolute faith that his Mother would never harm him and he had never feared her waters in his life. But he feared for the Heat. If they were forced to retreat from here? If they dove down into her waves? The River had not enough of himself present to shield his companion from her perilous wrath. Even at his full power he could never hope to match an Elemental.

But he kept all his thoughts to himself as the Heat gingerly stepped forth, awkwardly maneuvering his way across the platform using the River’s own waters for support.

When at last they stood side by side, hands still clasped together with the ever-present steam coalescing around them, they stood tall and firm. As one, they squared themselves, pulling their shoulders up and lifting their heads to face down a primordial force of nature. The River allowed the extraneous parts of himself to squeeze tightly around his companion in an embrace, offering him what little support he was able.

“Ah, there you are.” The Tidal Wave gave a tight-lipped smile, the obvious assessment on her face noted by them both. “No need to be frightened, little Spirit. A friend of my children is always welcome on my waves.”

Her words were warm and reassuring and, despite himself, the River began to relax. This was a good sign, wasn’t it? A pledge of hospitality issued from her to the one he swore to protect? She obviously did not recognize him. The Sea had always been a source of comfort and safety to the River and it was heartening to see her being so amicable.

Beside him, the Heat opened his mouth. “Thank you. It’s… good to meet you.”

She laughed. “Ah, how polite! Still nervous, but we can work on that, I think.” Turning her attention back to the River, she continued, “Now, what exactly was it you wanted to ask me, my son?”

The River smiled back. This would work! They would make it through! “I was wondering if you might know of any way to… To break a curse, Mother.”

Abruptly, all warmth left them as her relaxed features tightened. In a rush, she asked, “A curse?! River, has something happened?! Are you alright?! Oh, who could have done such a thing?!”

He waved his free hand, doing his best to cut her off. “No! No, Mother, not me!” She stared hard at him as he gulped. “A friend of mine. He was cursed to lose control of himself and has not been able to find a cure. I wondered if you might know anything about such a thing?”

Her features drew down into a frown. “Such a thing is not possible, my child. One may not meddle in the very make-up of a being. No living thing could be influenced in such a way.”

“Not even if the curse was set upon them by an Elemental?”

The River snapped his head to the side where the Heat was staring up at the Wave. His words seemed to have resonated outward as the platform beneath them gave a shaky shudder.

“...What?” the Sea asked, incredulous.

And despite the River’s warnings, despite his frantic emotions screaming for the other to stay quiet, the Heat continued on. “This friend was cursed by the Moon, himself. Surely an Elemental would have that sort of power?”

She looked dazed, her eyes staring off into the distance. “No… Even then, there exists no such thing…”

“There has to be! The Moon laid a curse upon the Spirit! He’s trapped!”

The River squeezed the Heat’s hand even harder, willing him to silence with every droplet within him.

But the Sea’s words turned cold, nonetheless. “The Moon you say. The Moon who has retreated from this world? Who stays in his skies and turns his gaze away from this land?” Suspicion laced her voice as she stared them both down. “The Moon who cursed his treacherous brother to a life of torment?!”

With one last waver, the water spout beneath them cut out completely, dropping the two of them down to meet her waters. The River braced himself, willing what little of him there was to cover the Heat completely. But before they splashed down, a great gust of wind buffeted them, redirecting their fall so they touched down upon the sandy beach instead. Beside them, the Lightning stood, his eyes wide and the bright spark of him dimmed. He stared up at their Mother even as she glared down to where they stood.

“You…” Her voice was laced with such raw, threatening menace. “The Calamity. This is the first time you’ve ventured so close to my shores. I wonder just why that is?”

The River felt his temperature rising, warm beads dripping down his frightened face. “Mother, I—“

“SILENCE!”

He froze, having no idea what to do. He had never heard her speak so, least of all not to him. He merely dragged the Heat further behind him, trying to shield the other Spirit with his body.

“Mother, please, just listen to us! It is not all as it seems—“ The Storm’s desperate pleading was silenced as she enveloped him in a large sphere, the seawater swirling, cascading around him in a primal prison. The rain abruptly stopped, only the roaring of the angry Sea audible now. The Storm beat upon the walls of his jail until he was naught but a weak, wispy cirrus but no part of it gave way.

“Brother!” The Lightning was gone in an instant, flashing over to where the Storm sat confined. The wind howled around him as the thunder resounded, jagged bolts heeding his call as they surged downwards from the spiraling clouds. One strike, two, three— The Lightning hurled himself against the barrier in blinding flashes. But the crackling sparks made not a mark upon the Sea herself, her mighty element absorbing and dispersing every charge with laughable ease.

The River watched the realization dawn on the Lightning as he gazed in hopeless dismay at where their brother was housed. He backed away in defeat, disbelief coloring his features, looking more lost and alone than he could bear to see.

Just as the River was about to make the foolish mistake of diving into his Mother’s waters, a tremendous gust of wind traced a curving scar upon the Tidal Wave, the force of it pushing her back the smallest fraction. With the cry of the rushing air, the Gale raced forward, hand outstretched. The Lightning turned, the jagged reds of his eyes glowing with a hope to match the Gale’s own vibrant hues. And as their hands touched, a great burst of power let loose, a furious bolt conjured of the Gale’s own winds slicing through the Storm’s prison with a concussive boom.

In a frantic rush, the Storm fled his cage, falling to the ground where he lay weakened and wan. Immediately, the River rushed to his side, the Heat trailing him, even as the Gale and Lightning sounded again and again, keeping their Mother at bay.

Above them, the sky was lightening as the clouds began to dissipate, the Storm too weak to keep them together any longer. The River took his brother’s hand within his own, willing the last excess of himself into the other. He felt the waters leaving him even as the Storm darkened, his electric-blue eyes flashing open once more.

A sudden thud crashed behind them and in unison all three of them looked upwards to the embankment, to where a dirt-strewn crater now sat with the prostrate bodies of the Lightning and Storm resting within. A dark shadow loomed over the five figures as the Tidal Wave drew near, her waters roiling with a thunderous cacophony.

She stared down at her offspring, the dark shadows of her face swirling into a glare. “All of you?! You would side with this scourge?!” She seemed distraught, her waves splashing ever higher. “He has deceived you, my sons! He is a Destroyer! I will— I will not let him take you from me as well!”

The River did not know what to do. All around him, his brothers and friends were lying defeated. He had barely enough of himself left to keep the Heat from reigniting. And above them, the entire might of the Sea was poised to crash down upon them.

Deep within him, the flame sprang to life, the flickering spark growing larger and larger. The warmth of it almost unbearable. The River gasped, turning his gaze to where the Heat knelt beside him. “Hey,” the other Spirit said, his lips quirked but his eyes sad, “I think I’ll shoulder this one myself.”

The River shook his head. “No. No, please…”

Slowly rising to his feet, the Heat let go of his hand. Without his connection to the source and with the River with no more of himself to give, the droplets evaporated quickly from his white-hot skin. As the blaze began to lick across his glowing surface once more, the flames growing larger and larger with every moment, the Fire smirked. “I’m not letting you all face her for me. This is my mess, alright? I’ll take care of it.”

The River tried vainly to reach out and, though he managed to grab a hold of one of the Fire’s writhing flames, crushing it to steam within his palm, he could not stop the other from running forward, a ferocious yell upon his lips.

As if in slow motion, the River watched in horror, staring as the Fire grew brighter and brighter, his flames eclipsing him fully within a luminescent corona that was terrible and awe-inspiring to look upon. This was not the power of a single Spirit he was unleashing. This was the sum of him, his own essence mingling with every strand of power he had taken from the stars so very, very long ago. The air itself seemed to catch fire as steam filled the sky and the River heard his Mother scream in surprise.

“No…” he whispered, scrambling to his feet. “No no no.” The dirt-filled crater shifted as the Lightning and Gale surfaced, their confused expressions tracking the River as he ran. “No! Stop!”

He saw the terrible truth of what would happen here. He saw his Mother driven back, whimpering and wounded. He saw the Fire consumed as he released the very essence of himself in their defense. He saw the span of decades that the Sea would need to heal, to recover. And he saw the Spirit he loved lying dormant, no spark left to sustain him.

His choice was made in an instant.

With one last guttural scream, the River leapt into the fray, feeling the unmitigated heat burning him away. He saw himself evaporating even as he closed his crumbling hands around the Fire’s own, noting the other Spirit’s pained eyes widening in terror as they beheld him.

The River gave the Fire a fond smile as he surrendered himself to the blaze, welcoming this one last touch of his beloved even as he faded away to nothing. He boiled from the inside out even as the Fire reined back his assault, becoming once more the flaming Spirit the River had first met in the Wood what seemed a lifetime ago.

The Sea had settled down into a gentle, sloshing rhythm and the River rejoiced at the sound of her, of the sounds of his childhood. And there beside the seashore where he had taken his first steps, that is where the last of his waters ran out.

  
~~~

  
_She who is Vast settled down upon the Stone,_   
_And covered His form in Her waves,_   
_And together, the Two sang,_   
_The ancient thrum of the Earth._   
  
  
_She learned of His design, of His crests and crevasses,_   
_And in rhythmic push and pull,_   
_She caressed His weary shape,_   
_And sank Herself into His hollows._

  
_And the Earth, so broken and devastated, still,_   
_Felt Her touch in all things,_   
_Awash in Her closeness,_   
_As She filled in His fractures._

  
_And as Two became One, the Great Earth, the Vast Sea,_   
_Then did the very Void_   
_Sing with Their laughter,_   
_And witness Their Sacred Bond._

  
_Thus was made manifest the Green Wood, resplendent,_   
_The Heir of Land and Sea,_   
_The proof of Their Bond,_   
_Given physical form._

  
_Together, the Three reigned in peace o’er the land,_   
_And the Earth shed no tears,_   
_And the Sea did not rage,_   
_And the Wood grew and prospered._

  
_But when Calamity rained down and shattered the Earth,_   
_And burned through the Wood,_   
_Then, only Sea was left._   
_And She wailed for those She had lost._

  
~~~  
  
  
“Before the Sundering”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem, yes, I did just return from hiatus to give you all a cliffhanger. Whoops? u^_^ But a new chapter will be up by next week at the latest, so don't worry too much.
> 
> The title for this chapter is taken from Chopin's [Ocean Etude](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRlHKQXjzZY), a high-energy, dynamic piece that really lives up to its name. For me, there is a pronounced power in the rising and falling arpeggios, cresting like the waves and crashing down just as hard. I felt it was perfect for this chapter as they faced the Sea, herself.
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for reading. I promise, I will finish this in a timely manner now, lol. No more unexpected breaks. u^_^
> 
> ~Veil


	8. Reflets dans l'eau

It was a dream. A nightmare. Another apparition sent to haunt his long rest. It had to be. It had to—  
  
The moment seemed to linger on as the full impact of his actions set in and the Heat's mind flashed back to the what had led them to where they stood now. The Sea had loomed, an ominous threat, and desolation had swirled across the River’s face, hopelessness shuttering his expressive eyes. All around them, their allies were defeated, just tiny Spirits futilely failing to stave off the Elemental. What could be done? How could any of them hope to face this unfathomable being, one of the cornerstones of all creation?  
  
And so he had risen, determination in his steps. He would not watch them as they suffered for his sake. He would not be the cause of their pain. For so long, that is all he had ever been and all he could hope to be.  
  
No longer.  
  
When the Sea reared up, a great Tidal Wave poised at the edge of their demise, and had sneered out her hatred and desperation, the Fire paused, taking one last look at the Spirits that had aided him, had become his friends—at the one he loved above all others—and he let loose his flames once more.  
  
With each step, he felt his resolve burn brighter, a shining beacon with which to draw the Sea’s ire. He planted himself, one foot in front of the other, steadily marching onward through the seafoam and the mist. At last he stood there, alone, facing a power so great, so incomprehensible, that he could not account for it. He burned ever brighter, burned with a fury now born of protection, not destruction, fully unleashed before her. And in that moment, he delved ever deeper, down past the very essence of himself to where his hubris was immortalized. He pushed through every barrier, melting and reforming and melting again as the raging temperatures scalded his very essence. He pulled himself apart as the power tore through him and every burning day of the past millennia felt as like a dream in comparison. And bathed in starlight he emerged once more, the apex of flame and molten metal, the fever of the cosmos.   
  
All around him the very air caught fire and a billowing plume of steam began to rise from all sides. The wetted sand became dry and loose. The crashing waves ceased their assault. And overhead, the dim, afternoon light filtered through the wispy clouds as the Sea recoiled, no longer casting her long shadow atop them all.  
  
He laughed and screamed as molten tears streaked his face, cutting deep furrows into his cheeks only for them to reform again, perfectly whole and unblemished. His pain was only matched by his euphoria as the power coursed through his unsuited body. In his haze, he felt he lived for eternities, the passing of the ages caught in a brief moment.  
  
But something wavered within him.  
  
There was a pool, so pure and cold, that the inferno would not touch. He felt it there, deep within him, a central locus that the firestorm encircled. Even as his power grew, the very sand beneath his feet turning to brittle glass, he could sense its siren call and the yearning to touch, to taste, to submerge himself within haunted every waking thought.  
  
The blaze was deafening in his mind, drowning out the discord all around him, but, like the loudest of echoes in the deepest of caves, he heard the telltale resonance of a droplet striking water. _ Drip drip drip! _ It sounded there within him, more than a match for the towering inferno. More soon joined it, a great rush of water filling up the basin. Before long, a steady fall rained down and the pool filled completely, the excess spilling over him and wetting the desolate, ash-covered ground.  
  
He felt the fires inside him draw back as the water encroached upon them, their burning fury being washed out from beneath them by the steadily hastening flow. And he could not help but revel in the feeling of that sweet, soothing chill chasing away his pains.  
  
The Fire felt his control returning, the deadly starlight being reined back within him. And when at last his senses returned, it was with a terrible understanding.  
  
He felt it before he saw it. Those cool waters cascading over his charred soul led him back to their source, the River true. But as he approached, he knew not the vibrant, swirling stream that had held him so tenderly, soothing his hurts and caressing him with a gentle touch. No, he felt merely the dry beds, cracked and faded, emptied of the one who gave them meaning. The River’s own source was dry and the Fire despaired as his own, crackling flames licked across where the Spirit he loved once thrived.  
  
The River had given everything he had to the Fire. And the Fire had consumed him completely. And he knew then that this nightmare was his truth.  
  
He cried out with more than words. His very soul ached as he witnessed what he had wrought. And as his singed soul shuddered, he felt his physical form fall down onto the broken, glassy sand, his hands rising up to shield his face from his own folly. He wept for the River, so brave and so true, his beloved wellspring who had perished by his hand. The soothing waters of his own soul, the River’s final gift to him, rose up within, spilling forth from his eyes in a messy, steaming rush. The tears flowed across his form, clinging to him with a desperate ardor. They encircled him like his wayward companion, holding him close and never fearing his embers.  
  
Behind him, he could hear the others approach as a great gust of wind stung his back. But still, he wept, uncaring of his audience, uncaring of the Sea still lapping at his legs. He cared for nothing and no one now, for the great Void held naught within it that could replace what had been lost.  
  
As he shattered apart, the broken remnant of a once-strong union, he reached out once more, searching—desperately searching—for some sign of his error. Some indication that all was not lost. But only more tears answered him, the growing aggregate of them easily enveloping him. The air itself seemed to reach out, the mist upon the breeze adding to the bittersweet embrace.  
  
He took no notice. Not until a gentle weight came to rest upon his back.  
  
And like a memory, he felt a ghost in that touch, the water flowing like arms now, encircling his heaving shoulders. A coolness nuzzled against his face and he felt his flames stutter as he slowly lowered his hands.  
  
Overhead, the Sun shone brightly, little wisps of cirrus her only blockade. All along the beach, a glistening layer of smooth glass reflected her rays, countless tiny sparkles reflecting upward and outward across the gently rocking Sea before them. His flames danced in the easy breeze as his molten eyes opened. And there beside him, behind him, around him, _ within him, _ was the River.  
  
He looked the same as always, the ever-flowing currents within him shifting with an easy motion. The different shades of him shone in the Sun’s bright light, the refraction sending dozens of tiny rainbows all across the glassy coast. His riverbed eyes sparkled happily as they regarded each other and he laughed brightly as he held the Fire close.  
  
“It seems you were right, my light,” he said, his lyrical voice a balm upon the last of the Fire’s despair. “Not even death could destroy us.” With a jaunty smirk, he held out his palm, snatching up one of the dancing flames and letting it rest easily upon it.  
  
And the Fire had never felt so much all at once. With trembling hands, he took hold of the River’s cherished face, his white eyes darting all about, taking in every small thing about him. And with one final sob, he enclosed the River in his embrace, the flames and waters of them flowing together. “My sweet stream,” he choked out, “my River… My beloved.”  
  
“My beloved,” the River echoed back.  
  
The waves and the wind interfered not as they rested together upon the sparkling shore. The Fire and River, two halves of the greater whole, were linked by more than just the flame and flood flowing through them. They lived within each other, fully and freely, never to be parted. And their souls were tied, not by curse or obligation, but by every singing note of the love held between them.  
  
This was no nightmare, no dream, the Fire decided. For in this moment, reality far outweighed either.  
  
  


  
__________________  
  
  
The Sea remembered the Fall.  
  
It had been a quiet day, calm and peaceful. Her gentle waves splashed playfully upon the earthen ridge where her beloved had rested, his feet hanging down to catch her spray. A young tree sat there upon the edge where they met, his branches hanging down and over and in between them both.  
  
He was growing so well, their beautiful son. Behind him sprawled an ocean of green, a forest of saplings taking hold in the rich soil. She remembered his smile as she rose up to meet them, joining them in a loving embrace.  
  
They had been her world, the Earth and Wood. And she had loved them with every drop of her that encircled the world.  
  
But from that idyllic peace had come Calamity.  
  
She remembered the sky flashing red and the Sun darkening overhead, eclipsed by a flaming entity. She recalls the Moon drawing down from his celestial perch, stepping forward to defend that which he loved. She remembers looking up in terror as the Meteor was turned away, cast _down down down_ to pierce the Earth’s heart.  
  
Her Bonded had looked at her with resignation, a deep sadness in his eyes as he held their son close. “My love—” he had said in that voice she so cherished, his last proclamation before the Fallen Star tore him apart.  
  
She was flung back by the impact, by the great, heaving faults that split the land, displacing her from her shores and forming new ones just as quickly. The lowlands rose up as mountains swelled and the canyons of old rose to greet them. Plateaus were submerged in her teeming depths and a great billow of ash and dust swelled high into the sky, blotting out the Sun and Moon entirely.  
  
She heard the cries of the Spirits as they screamed in agony. She felt their listless bodies breaking apart, surrendering to their own demise. And above all, she heard the Earth cry out, a haunting sound like none other she had ever experienced, the death throes of an Elemental in his last, agonizing moments.  
  
When at last the upheaval settled, when the shifting land grew still and her waters ceased their thrashing, then she rose from the depths to a foreign world. She searched without rest through the rubble and debris, hoping for a glimpse, a single sign, of her love or her progeny. But despite her pleading, despite her calls, they did not answer.  
  
The jutting ridge where they had at one time settled together had been consumed, swallowed up amidst the rolling rock. The remnants of the Wood had long since fallen down, his stratified trunks turned to cinder and ash. Her son did not answer as she screamed from her beaches. His First Tree, the one that rested Between, was gone.  
  
Above her, the sky eventually cleared, the Sun shining down with a diminished light. And she wept for the golden Elemental above and for the battle-scarred Moon at her side, for her dearest friends so distorted by the fight.  
  
All alone there in her endless expanse, the Sea wept for the world, so shattered, so scarred. And when at last she could weep no longer, she let the hatred seep in, for the one who had taken it all from her. For the Calamity, the Fallen Star. The Mindless Monster, Fire.  
  
And yet… That was not what she saw now. Not as the Calamity wept in relief, cradled in her son’s arms.  
  
With stunning clarity, she remembered the River’s last, desperate action, placing himself between them, the Nova and the Sea. She remembered her surprise, her horror as he appeared. She remembered the look mirrored in the Conflagration’s face. And when all was finished and the Calamity wailed his sorrow into the ether, that same deep, encompassing anguish welled up within her, the likes of which had broken her before.  
  
She had floated passively, so stunned by the act, so numbed. And it was only as her own waves spat her ashore, her diminished form bathed in their white foam, that she had seen that all was not lost. She had staggered forward, knots of seaweed hanging limply across her face, and stumbled her way across the slick dunes. And as she approached the Fallen Star in his crater of rippled, concentric glass, her other sons and the Child of Sky at his back, it was then that she saw him.  
  
The River. Her beloved child. He lived!  
  
Formed of the Fire’s own tears, he ringed around the flaming Spirit, plastering himself to his destroyer without thought or hesitation. And she saw the way the embers sparked along his form. Saw the way the Fire remained steadily burning in the River’s hold. And she knew without prompting that they, too, had found their life in each other.  
  
It staggered her, this knowledge, and she felt her legs quiver beneath her. Her own son… He loved the very Fire that had stolen away so much from her. Who had destroyed the Wood, had devastated the Earth…  
  
She watched as he cradled the Fire close, soothing his despair with a patient, practiced hand. And she knew… knew deep in her soul where her own bond once laid that she could never part them from each other. She understood the pain of that separation. And she would not help facilitate it now that she realized the truth. With a gentle wave of her hand, she let her tides sweep her forward, gently brushing across the glazed shoreline.  
  
The Storm noticed her first, his wispy form turning to her as she moved. It pained her to see him step back, to see him frightened by her presence. But that stubbornness of his soon took hold and he marched forward, coming to stand between her and the two still locked in each other’s arms. The Lightning, ever attuned to his brother’s movements, narrowed his eyes, too, flashing forward with the Gale at his side, the three of them a solid barrier to her.  
  
“Can’t you just leave them be?” The Lightning’s sharp words shocked her more than his bolts ever could, the knowledge that she had failed them all sparking within. “Breaking them apart just makes things worse, can’t you see that?!”  
  
A quiet whisper joined those angry words. “Please,” the Storm said, “They need each other, Mother. Don’t… Don’t hurt them.”  
  
A deep, abiding shame settled within her, sinking down into the very core of her being. She shuddered at the damage she had wrought. To think that she could garner this reaction from the ones she loved most… To think she could make them _fear_ her. She had become the very abomination she had sought to destroy.  
  
She sank to her knees in the briny wash, her tides lapping at the mirror-like surface. And she let herself go, let the waters around her settle, the mighty Sea now completely calm. She knew what she had to do now. And staring up at the carefully blank Gale, she asked, “And you, Arbiter? What say you?”  
  
She saw the Lightning flash closer to him, cleaving to the entire length of the other Spirit. His red eyes laid a challenge for his Bonded, one that the Gale took in stride. He quirked his lips—just the slightest bit!—and cast his winds gently around his love. Placated, the Lightning settled and the Gale then turned his mismatched stare her way. He proclaimed, “I have found it fair and just to extend a hand in mercy to the ones who most need it.” Turning away from his Bonded with one last half-embrace, the Gale swept forward, standing tall and strong above the downed Elemental. Swaying softly, he stared up at the bright sky, his mismatched eyes not shying away from the Sun’s rays. “My Mother spoke often of him. The Meteor. Did you know that?” he began.  
  
There was an air of revelation in his words. The Sea shook her head and committed to listening.  
  
“It’s true. Her words were at times questioning, wondering what she had done wrong, why he hated her so. At other times… I remember her incoherent sobs, her cries for mercy. They haunt me to this day.” His brow pulled tight across both hemispheres of his face.  
  
“This is how I was raised, Mighty Sea. With the knowledge of a catastrophe that broke my parents completely, but never the details of what or how or why. With my Mother’s stammered tales and her golden tears. And my Father’s indifference to all things apart from her.  
  
“And yet…” He shifted in his winds, sinking lower to kneel before her. Reaching out, he took her seafoam hands between his own. “And yet, I have found a need for mercy, still. For in truth lies forgiveness or retribution. And I have made my choice.  
  
“In all our prior battles not once did I think to question his status. ‘Slay the monster,’ I was instructed. ‘Save us all,’ they asked of me. And I did. Over and over, I sought to contain him, to stop his evil threat. And I believed them when they told me he was naught but destruction. I heard it in my Mother’s waking terrors, in my Father’s silence and in all the cries of the Spirits I fought for. And it was not until now—” He glanced back to the Fire and River. “—not until the courage of your son reclaimed him from his torment, that I was finally able to find the truth for myself. For it was not a monster I was sent to dispatch. No, not a mindless beast. I found… I found a Spirit, much like myself. One who fought and fought against the curse that bound him, fought to keep his own flames at bay even as he himself burned alive. I found a soul who had suffered long with no reprieve, and with no one there to hear his tale. And now? Well, now I found a friend. One who acknowledges his wrongdoings. And who works to repair them.” The sunset and moonrise were both captured in his smile, the strange sight of his celestial parents represented within him as he advocated for mercy. His features held a daunting determination in them, too, the sort that had earned him his title of Warden of the Winds. “I will do all in my power to help him. Because no Spirit on the realm deserves to suffer alone. For he is no Calamity, no Scourge, no Monster. He is Fire, and Heat and Starshine. He is a friend of Gale and Storm, of Lightning and Boulder. Beloved of the River, at rest in his waters. He is a noble Spirit. And he is under my protection.”  
  
She stared down at her hands, still encased in his cooling winds, and she shuddered and swelled, no longer able to contain her emotions. Salty tears tracked down from her dark eyes, splashing into the ever-moving tides beneath her. She had spent so long living in her hatred. So long snarling at the mere thought of the Fire. But to hear such words, to see such devotion, to know, without a doubt the love that shone true between her son and his Bonded…  
  
She wept steady and strong as she instinctively sought out her own bond, delving down into her waters to where the Earth’s shoreline used to rest. There was nothing now but shattered stone, as fresh as the day of his sundering. Like so many times before, she reached out for him without thought, crashing upon his scattered ridges and through jagged canyons, hoping that she might feel him once more. At times, she could almost feel _something._ Some slight intuition, some random, echoing thought. She felt it now, too, one last reverberation settling through the broken stone, the tremor of his laugh only a memory she clung to.  
  
She knew what he would have wanted. He was always so concerned: for her, for the world, for the life he fostered. So caring and kind. A bit gruff at times, yes, somewhat rough in his manner. But with so much love within him, too.  
  
_"Be happy, my love,” _he would have asked of her. _“Be free from this hate.”_  
  
And she, as ever, could not deny him.  
  
The phantom feeling of his embrace left her with calm waters and a light heart. But the specter of him soon gave way to reality and, stunned, she beheld her sons, all three, embracing her diminished form.  
  
“Mother,” they cried, each one after the other. And they held her fast within their embrace; the airy hold of the Storm, the crackling touch of the Lightning, the swirling grip of the River. They clutched her to them and she felt a new swell within her.  
  
“My sons.” Her voice wavered with uncertainty, with trepidation. “Why? I have… I have hurt you all. Why embrace me now, after all I have done?”  
  
But it was none of them who answered her. “Because we all make mistakes. And sometimes we hurt someone without meaning to. But a second chance isn’t earned, it’s given. And you taught your sons enough of mercy for them to know it.”  
  
Her dark eyes met luminous white and, for the first time, the Sea truly beheld the Fire. No blind, lashing rage filled her as she stared at him, only a wonder at his words, spoken with such wisdom, spoken from experience.  
  
The River turned to face him, giving the Fire a gleaming smile that made his waters shine. He said, “Yes. We know you were only trying to protect us. To keep us safe.” Their waters mingled together as they embraced, the River’s fresh stream and her salted tides. He and his brothers held her close, a mirrored parody of how she had once rocked them in her waves. “But you are here now, devoid of rage, ready to listen, to help. And… I forgive you.”  
  
Beside him, the Lightning and Storm nodded. “Yes, yes, me too.”  
  
“And I.”  
  
The River’s sable eyes softened. “We know you love us. And we love you as well. But that love inside me is now kindled with burning flame. Can you accept that? Accept _us?”_  
  
_Could _she? She held them all close and looked back to where the Fire and Gale stood. These were the Spirits her sons had chosen, the ones their very souls longed for. She knew so well the magnitude of such an event and the devotion needed to sustain it.  
  
There was still much to discuss and many grievances to air. For, though her rage had been depleted, her sorrow lingered, always. But she would not let it affect her decision. She would do right by her sons, no matter her own hurts. Slowly, she nodded at the Gale and Fire in turn, for they were, by some cosmic coincidence, just as much her children now as the very ones she had fashioned. And no matter their history, she would never harm either of them again.  
  
“My sons,” she proclaimed, addressing them all. “I feel we have much more yet to discuss.”  
  
  
_________________  
  
  
  
Night had fallen fully by the time they had managed to summarize the events of the last few days and a stilted silence permeated the darkened landscape. The Fire shone brightly amidst the shadows, their only source of light now that the Sun had retreated to her sleep. The Moon had yet to appear and the steadily-increasing cloud cover high overhead blotted out the starlight.  
  
The Storm felt nothing but relief as his strength returned, his condensed form no longer shuddering and weak, liable to be swept away to rainier venues at a moment’s notice. No, the Gale’s swift winds had managed to capture some of his wayward clouds, urging them eastward to coalesce here above their weakened master. The Storm allowed a small smile for his new brother, gladdened by his thoughtfulness.  
  
But as far as new brothers went, the main focus remained on the Fire.  
  
Their Mother and he continued to make rather stilted conversation, the two of them trying their best to stave off the awkwardness of only recently having fought each other unrestrained. The River acted as the perfect mediator, though, fielding their more _adversarial_ moments with a practiced ease, making sure no words were taken out of context, no misunderstandings left to fester. And slowly but surely, they reached an accord.  
  
“So, why now?” the Fire asked from his place beside his Bonded. “For… _eons_ I struggled and fought against this curse. And now, what? It’s just _gone?_ How? Just… why?!”  
  
Indeed, it was true. In the aftermath of their battle, when the Sea had calmed and the River was restored, they had found a strange quirk to their fiery friend: he no longer needed the River surrounding him to keep his flames at bay.  
  
The revelation had shocked them all, but none moreso than the Fire himself. It had been an accidental discovery, one they had not even noticed at first. But after the Sea had agreed to their terms and after they had all settled to begin their discussion, it had not even occurred to any of them for a good while that the Fire and River were separated. No tether connected them any longer, no pearlescent coating of water slaking the Fire down to molten rock and metal. No, he sat quite contentedly, burning merrily away under his own power. His startled shout when he noticed led them to this new discovery.  
  
The Sea merely quirked one, undulating eyebrow at the Spirit. “There was never a curse, Spirit of Fire,” she said.  
  
He rose to his full height in seconds, a great bonfire upon the seashore. “Of— Of _course_ there was! Did you not hear my words, Elemental?! How the Moon himself bound me, forced me to destroy all in my path?!”  
  
She met his words calmly. “It is just as I told you earlier: once life is breathed into a Spirit, it is their own to keep. Even we, the creators, cannot alter another so. Only in death might one be so irrevocably changed.”  
  
The River, sensing another rise in tension, flowed forth to stand beside his Bonded, a cool hand laid upon his arm to soothe him. But the Fire would not be placated. “No! That _can’t_ be true! He did something to me! He _must_ have!”  
  
The Lightning, who had been idly sitting between the Storm and Gale, perked up then. “Yeah, we saw it ourselves, Mother, how the flames pulled him around. There’s still a smoking trail all across the Wood that he left behind not so very long ago.”  
  
She flinched at his words, a pained look in her eyes and the Storm longed to quiet his brother’s thoughtless words. Now that they knew… Now that they had learned of her first family’s fate, it would not do to speak so carelessly. And, to his credit, the Lightning looked chagrined, grimacing as he flashed along the Gale’s side.  
  
But the Sea mastered herself swiftly enough, shaking away her hurt like the sloughing waves breaking upon the cliff side. “I was not insinuating that he had not been altered, dear children. Only that it was not by another.”  
  
“What?!” the Lightning yelled, jumping up beside the Fire and River. “What are you saying?! That he— That he _chose_ what he became?!”  
  
Tellingly, the Fire remained silent, looking stricken in the River’s arms.  
  
“No,” the Sea responded. “I know of none who would wish such a fate upon themselves. But it _was_ by his own doing that he became so, whether he intended it or not.” She turned her stare upon the flickering figure before her. “Is that not so? Star-Stealer?”  
  
The Fire shuddered, his bright blaze dying down to slowly smoldering embers. His white eyes were wide as he stared down at his own hands. The River hugged him close, fine strands of him wrapping loosely around the other. Turning his own, stunned gaze the Sea’s way, the River asked, “So you’re saying… that it was never the Moon that forced him on this rampage? But the starlight he holds within?”  
  
She nodded, slowly meandering back and forth across her waves. “He took that which he could not contain. When the Shard stole the starlight and was set ablaze, he was tempered by the lifeless Void that surrounded him. But after his fall, after the Moon cursed him to a life upon the land, he could no longer contain his stolen power alone. The flames that raged within him were more fierce than he could hold. And so they consumed him and made him their prisoner.”  
  
“But why now?” The Gale had joined them, too, his eyes full of questions. “How has he managed to contain himself _now_ after so long as a slave?”  
  
The Sea stared pointedly the River’s way and he blinked rapidly, his unsettled current sending ripples all across his form. She let the moment sink in before, with a soft whisper, she declared, “He has not. But he is no longer alone.”  
  
In the aftermath of her words, three voices sounded, the Lightning and Gale and River each speaking overtop the other, theorizing, questioning, exclaiming disbelief. The Storm watched the Fire, his burning skin almost completely devoid of flames now. There was an air of disbelief and devastation surrounding him. He thought it was, perhaps, time to speak up.  
  
“It was not your fault, Fire.”  
  
The Storm's soft words quieted his brothers as they all turned to stare. But he ignored their curious gazes as he swept over to stand before the other Spirit. Electric blue eyes met gleaming white and he knew… He knew this needed to be said. “You had no idea any of this would happen.”  
  
“I killed them.” The Fire’s words cut through them all and not a sound was heard between them. Even the Sea was silent, her waves still.  
  
But the Storm shook his head. “You did not. You never wanted to harm any of them—”  
  
“But I still did!” The Fire blazed back to full strength as he glared up at the Storm. “It was my fault this all happened! I and I alone am responsible for the scourge upon this land! I, who was too greedy, who coveted too much! I took what wasn’t mine and then faltered when I could not contain it!” He stepped back, a deep horror slowly overtaking his face. “I did this… I… I did this…”  
  
“Beloved, please—” The River’s words were cut off by an arching burst of flame. The Fire was burning brighter and brighter in his distress but the Storm carried on.  
  
“You could not have known!” he shouted.  
  
“Does that absolve me?! No!”  
  
“You fought against it at every turn!”  
  
“And _lost_ at every turn, too!”  
  
“Fire, please—”  
  
Without warning, a sweeping wave splashed across all of them and they turned as one to regard the Sea. She was glowering at them from where she sat atop another wave. _“Enough,”_ she said, the power and authority of the ages in her voice.  
  
The Fire steamed quietly where he stood, the ocean spray thankfully not enough to extinguish him entirely but enough to lessen his flames. But he still stepped back warily as she flowed over to stand before him.  
  
“‘We all make mistakes. And sometimes we hurt someone without meaning to. But a second chance isn’t earned, it’s given.’ You told me that.” Her voice held steady as she stared down at the Fire. “Your actions have caused pain. And death. And destruction. Your avarice has set loose disaster. Even if you had no way of knowing this would happen, I cannot say you are free from blame.”  
  
Warm tears flecked from the Fire’s eyes as he looked away, no longer able to handle her hard stare. He did not see her as she moved forward and, as a result, started as her arms came around him. “But you have shown us that our mercy is not misplaced.” He gasped within her embrace as she cradled his head to her waves. “I have declared you my own now, Spirit of Fire, Soul of my Son. The Calamity is vanquished. And it is by your doing. You and the River.” The River who had come to join them in their embrace. The Sea smiled. “So go now with my blessing. Understand your faults. Learn from them. Do so freely, unbound by the burden that has plagued you for so long.”  
  
The Storm watched them with a proud smile. The weightlessness of reconciliation permeated the air and left him with an untethered joy in his heart. Here was his family, so close to complete, built on love and compassion and forgiveness. He felt happy to belong as he surveyed them all. Only one was left missing… One he had his suspicions of, who was more than he seemed. One who perhaps fit into their narrative even more appropriately than he had at first thought, especially now that he had heard his Mother’s tale. With a smile, the Storm rose, the weight of his clouds finally returned to him. And with the first fall of raindrops upon his shoulders, he proclaimed: “Now that we have settled this matter, I think there may be one last secret to share. Who would like to accompany me to where our Boulder friend rests?”  
  
  


~~~_  
__  
_ _Rest easy, O Sea, let your rage be assuaged,__  
_ _See anew with the eyes of forgiveness.__  
_ _Rest easy in mercy and bold, new affection,__  
_ _Let your battered soul be calmed.__  
__  
_ _Rest easy, Brave Flame, let your embers subside,__  
_ _Let the truth overtake you, at last.__  
_ _Rest easy upon the glittering sand,__  
_ _And within your Beloved’s embrace.__  
__  
_ _Rest easy, Young River, in reckless compassion,__  
_ _Secure in the strength of your bonds.__  
_ _Rest easy, rest well, in the strength of your love,__  
_ _The Catalyst, the Bringer of Peace.__  
__  
_ _~~~_

“In the Aftermath”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll have to forgive me for that little bit of self-indulgent artwork I sneaked in there. I'm no artist but I really, really wanted to draw these two for this fic. I didn't really... capture them quite as I see them in my head, but it's at least an approximation, lol. I actually drew it quite awhile ago and it was only in the course of writing this chapter that I realized I'd actually created this same scene with them on the beach. So yeah, there we go. Enjoy my amateur art if you can. XD (And a big thanks to [Corveille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corveille/pseuds/Corveille) for, once again, helping me figure out how to embed images. You're the best.)
> 
> The title of this chapter come from another Debussy piece, [Reflets dans l'eau](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLrEEFhj8Mc) (Reflections in the Water). This is one of those that has really stuck with me through this whole fic and I've rather come to regard it as the River's theme. I associate it so much with him. It's such a playful, lilting tune, flowing down to mysterious depths before splashing high in victorious ascent. There's a very free sort of structure to it much like the River, himself. The whole piece is just lovely and an amazing representation of the many forms of water and was the original title for this whole work when I started it. I think it suits this chapter, both for the role the River plays in it, but also for the Sea's role here as she finally lets go of her rage.
> 
> As of now, I have the last two chapters and an epilogue written but they're all in desperate need of some editing. Should definitely be able to keep to a weekly posting schedule, though. For any of you out there still reading this, thank you so much! I appreciate each and every one of you. <3
> 
> ~Veil


	9. Enigma

As soon as the clouds rolled in, the Boulder knew that they had done it.  
  
He watched the cirrus and stratus lining the sky above, swirling and layering upon each other in intricate shapes. Upon his stone face, he could feel the wind picking up and a sizzling charge filling the air. All across his meadow, the tall grasses swayed, an undulating ripple of shifting green hues.  
  
The Boulder sank down into the mud beside the River, and he waited.But he did not wait long.  
  
A thick blanket of fog crawled its way across the meadow, silver upon silver in the light of the Moon. The riverbank began to swell, rising higher and higher until it became a flood, cresting its boundaries to splash across the land. Joined in the midst of it, resplendent in their soft glow, stood two occluded figures. They were barely visible, their light a faded corona, flickering gently. But the strengthening gusts cut through their cover a little at a time and, though more mist arose with each passing moment, the Boulder could soon make out the expected forms of the River and Fire. They stood hand in hand, their elements overlapping each others; the flames and flood danced, intertwined, two opposite forces completely in harmony. A steady steam arose from their bodies, the source of the thick fog that had sprung up so suddenly. The entire River was shrouded from bend to bend, his icy waters warmed beyond the norm. Even the nascent drizzle could not drive it fully to ground.  
  
The Boulder shifted his rigid face into a smile. Ah, but they had tested their bond and found it true. He had hoped. Oh, he had hoped!  
  
A sudden crash and a blinding flash made him shudder and he looked away to where the Lightning had struck nearby. The Gale was with him, their gusts and sparks mingling together. And above them hovered the Storm, the bulk of him dark and heavy with the rains he had conjured.  
  
Letting out a creaking laugh, the Boulder said, “Welcome back, my friends. I see you’ve had great success.”  
  
The five converged on him, ringing around his girth in a loose semi-circle. But it was neither Bonded pair who stepped forward to question him. No, it was the singular Spirit who wafted near, the Storm staring him down with his flashing blue eyes. “We have, yes. But we bring questions with us also.”  
  
As ever, the Lightning was not content to remain in the background. Surging forward, he came to a stop beside his brother, eager to blurt out their queries. “How did you know the Sea would help us? That she could explain the bonds to us? Mother spoke of the rarity of such a thing, of how only the Elementals had ever achieved it before.” He twitched and sparked erratically with every word, a buzzing excitement filling him completely. Finally, he struck his way directly before the Boulder’s face. “So tell us: how did _ you _ know of such things?”  
  
A powerful gust brushed across his face and the Lightning squawked in indignation as it carried him back into his bondmate’s arms. “Don’t be rude,” the Gale whispered, though he said it with a fond smile.  
  
The Storm disregarded their continued bickering with the ease of long practice, forging on amidst the shuttered flashes and howling gusts. “Forgive him, Boulder. You know how he gets.” The Boulder _ did _ know, yes, and so met the Storm’s gaze with equal commiseration. “But...” he continued on, “his questions are our own. Please, will you answer?”  
  
A shock quaked the ground below as the Boulder sighed. With a loud crackling, he faced the River and Fire who had thus far been silent. “And do you think you can handle such truths, my young friends?”  
  
The River stepped forward, nodding. “Yes,” he said. “I do.”  
  
And the Fire, ever at his side, danced forward as well. _ “We _ do.” The two shared a glance heavy with meaning.  
  
Another sigh sent ripples across the River’s surface. “Alright then,” the Boulder began. “Now, where to begin… Ah yes, the Sea. How did I know she would help you? It was a simple gamble. You were seeking out the Elementals. It just so happens that your Mother is the only one of them who is of sound mind, easily accessible and willing to see reason. It was a simple conclusion to reach. Your bond? Much the same. If you were going to enquire of one of the most ancient beings of the cosmos, surely she would know at least something of your very unique circumstances. And, well… Your assumptions that I knew what was happening all along are unfounded. You asked it yourselves: _ how _ could I have known such things?”  
  
Staring them each down in turn, the Boulder quaked the ground once more. “So tell me, little Spirits… What is it you actually want to ask?”  
  
The Storm found his voice without hesitation. “Are you the Earth Elemental?”  
  
Ah, clever, clever. The Storm spoke so seldom, it was easy to forget how perceptive he was. But regardless, the Boulder found he could answer that with a resounding “No.”  
  
Five looks of honest confusion arrested him and the Boulder did his best not to express the amusement he felt at that. Even the rain above had stuttered for a brief moment. But the Storm tried again. “Then… do you know what became of him?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The Lightning thundered in. “Wait, what? Tell us!”  
  
“I imagine that all of you know, now that you’ve spoken with the Sea, herself. The Meteor fell, the Earth was shattered and now he exists no more.”  
  
The Lightning’s frustrated shout was cut off by a new voice entering the fray. “Do you know what became of his fragments _ after _ he was shattered?” the Fire queried, a burning determination lighting his eyes.  
  
Specific. Focused. Yes, these were the right questions to be asking. “I do.”  
  
“And the _ essence _ of him lives on, even if he has been changed?” the Gale added.  
  
The Boulder creaked forth a smile. “Oh, I should think so, yes.”  
  
Finally, the last of them approached, his most steadfast companion who had kept him company all these long years. “Please, old friend,” the River said, softly, “tell us what happened in the aftermath. What happened to… to _ you?” _  
  
He assessed them all with a shrewd gaze. “I hope these truths are what you need.”  
  
And with that, he began his tale.  
  
_________________  
  
  
The Fire absorbed the Boulder’s words with the steely slate of determination casting itself upon his molten core. He would stand here and he would listen to the Boulder’s words and he would not flinch at his own mistakes. His encounter with the Sea had galvanized him, had brought all of his past mistakes to bear. By mastering himself, he could finally see clearly his own part in his undoing and the consequences he was responsible for. And with the River by his side, perhaps he could face them without losing himself to his worse nature.  
  
And oh, the River! He could feel him always now, within and without. He had settled inside his burning shell just right, soothing over his sorest wounds while leaving him room to heal. The River bubbled there at the heart of him, a swift stream at his center, a sharp boundary and a source of freedom all at once.  
  
He had never truly known peace, not even in the darkness of the Void. As naught but a cast-off Shard of the Earth, he had languished in his brother’s shadow. As the Stealer of Starfire, he was heralded the Calamity. As the cursed Fire, he had plagued the land. And even here and now, with his bondmate at his side, he faced one last trial. In the River’s embrace he felt comfort, understanding, love. But only in facing all that he had done could he ever hope to know peace as well. He wanted to experience what it was like. He wanted to share it with his River.  
  
And so, he listened and learned and never balked at what he had done.  
  
_ “You’ve all heard tell of ages past, a time when the Earth was whole. I remember those days, the calm, the tranquility, content with the Sea at my side and the Wood upon my back.” _ _  
_ _  
_ He listened as the Boulder spoke of past idylls, of his own happiness in those days of yore. He listened as he mirrored the Sea’s own retelling, of the life they had nurtured, of the bond they had shared. Every word was tinged with melancholy, a reminder of what was to come.  
  
_ “I remembered it so clearly. The Sun falling to darkness. The Moon hanging low. The great, burning flame that scorched the heavens. And as the Fallen Star rained down destruction across the land, the last thing I saw was the Wood, confused, terrified, and the desperate Sea seeking answers in my eyes. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “And then I felt it. A pain like nothing I had known before or since. The feel of my body breaking apart, of the shattering, the grinding, the tearing quakes and the gouging plates—! It was… It was too much for me to bear. I knew nothing but the inferno and my own, sundered shell and the excruciating torment of sensation. There was no measure of days, no dawn or dusk, only the endless, unceasing agony.” _ _  
_ _  
_ The Fire remembered as well. He remembered his unceasing rage and the scorching starlight. The sight of his brother, his face twisted in agony, in horror, in anger. He remembered the blow the Moon dealt him, the scar that, even now, still aches and pulses with a cold, hollow weight. And he remembered falling and screaming and breaking, too. And after… After, an unending cycle of death and rebirth and destruction.  
  
He felt a shiver run through him, a cold fire in his core. He had caused this. His greed, his desire for acknowledgement, for acceptance. He had caused the Earth to break apart. He would not turn away from these truths, but even still… The sorrow sat heavy within him.  
  
But a squeeze of his hand halted his thoughts. A quick, sidelong glance to his Bonded revealed a reassuring smile upon his undulating face. Twin flames burned in his gaze, the muddy brown flickering a soft umber. And when gentle embers ringed their entwined hands, his own dominion now harnessed by his beloved, he found that his shivers had ceased.  
  
He loved the River so. How had he ever existed without him?  
  
_ “When I finally settled, when the throbbing mountains set and the broken plates found their rest, I had been… cut off. Diminished. I had never felt so small, not in my entire, lengthy existence. And when I reached out, seeking the shattered parts of me, seeking anything at all beyond this meadow, I found… nothing. Only the crumbling remains of my former self. I, who had once had the entirety of the world held within me, was now confined to the area where I had come to rest. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “And that, my friends, is how the Earth died. And that is how I came to be. The Boulder, forever bound, forever powerless.” _  
  
As his final words rang out, the Fire felt the weight of the silence. The sounds of the rain, of the wind, of the thunder, they echoed mutely as if from far away. Even the rushing stream, the very River he was bound to, seemed muted in the aftermath.  
  
The Fire stared up at the being who had once been the greatest of them all, at the remains of the Earth, the Progenitor. He looked so small now, diminished like he had said. His cracked, mossy face reflected millennia of sorrow. His gemstone eyes reflected his loss. And even still… Even still, he had greeted the Fire as a friend. Had helped him, given him advice, directed him towards the answers he needed.  
  
The Fire heard every word and understood his own part in the Earth’s downfall. And now, it was his turn to reply.  
  
“Boulder. I have no words I could give you to help. Nothing I can say could ease the hurt I’ve caused you.” He felt the hollowness deep within, the ancient core of him that had splintered from the Earth aching in sympathy. “Is there anything… anything at all I can do? To make amends?”  
  
Another rumble shook the meadow as the Boulder shifted. “You have done it, little Spirit.”  
  
“...What?”  
  
The Boulder ground out a smile. “You have mastered yourself now. You’ve reined in your reckless flames. I nevermore need worry about lounging here, helpless, as the Spirits around me perish. I nevermore have to hear the Green Wood burn.”  
  
He could feel the burning tears coasting down his face again. It was not only the Earth he had savaged, no, but his son as well. He remembered the screams of the little tree Spirit. Over and over and over again, he remembered his screams. The Wood had been razed by him so many times that it would be a wonder if he remembered himself at all. Burned away again and again, he was as a child always, never reaching his full growth.  
  
The Fire was so overwhelmed, so lost in his failings, that the River’s support was all that kept him upright now. The water Spirit could no doubt feel how affected he was and so, as always, he shouldered the Fire’s burdens himself and spoke. “My friend—” He addressed the Boulder. “—Mother told us about you. A great deal, in fact. Foremost was that… your bond to her was broken. She has not been able to feel you since the Sundering. She thought you dead.”  
  
The Boulder shuddered and the ground shook. “It is just so. I have not been able to reach her, either. The end of the tether is… snapped. Cut. Our connection was lost.” Rain fell upon him like the tears he could not shed.  
  
“But she has never stopped loving you,” the River continued. “She cares just as deeply now as she ever has. Perhaps even more so after your long separation.”  
  
The Boulder looked pained. “Then I suppose she will love me an even greater amount, for there is no togetherness to be had. I cannot leave this place. And she cannot come here, not without inciting disaster. Do not give her false hope, I beg of you. Let her think the Earth gone completely. Let her have her happy memories if she can have nothing more. This knowledge… would only taunt her with the impossible.”  
  
The Lightning, who had been uncharacteristically solemn during the Boulder’s tale, made a move as if to speak but the Storm cut him off with a shake of his head. As his brother sulked, he, after a moment of deliberation, said, “We would not do such a thing to her, you have our word. But I daresay that is not the River’s intention here. Correct?”  
  
The water Spirit nodded. “Correct, brother. I mentioned her because she let us know a rather strange fact.” Looking between the Storm and the Fire and the Boulder, the River seemed to steel himself. “She said… that at the heart of you had been a molten core. That you had been solid and steady upon the surface, but inside you were nothing but smoldering heat. We must know… is this true?”  
  
The Fire tamped back down all of his unruly feelings as he stared up at the Boulder. His rocky face looked perplexed for a moment and then, as his gaze came to rest upon the Fire, suspicious. “It is true.”  
  
“In that case,” the Storm said, “we would like to propose an idea.”  
  
The Boulder was old and wise and canny. He knew exactly what they were implying. And his answer was, “No.”  
  
The River leapt forth. “It does you no harm to hear us out!”  
  
The Boulder scowled, a fierce, grinding noise. “It does if it allows you the confidence to argue!”  
  
“But Boulder, you know we—”  
  
“I know it is dangerous and foolhardy to meddle like you would suggest! Do you really think I would allow you to try and reignite me? The two of you would exhaust yourselves well before you even got _ close _ to reaching the core! To allow this is to allow your deaths. And I will have no part in it.”  
  
The Fire watched them all; the River, steady and true, willing to venture into any danger to help those he loved; the Boulder, ravaged by time and sorrow, unwilling to lose the River who had been his truest companion for so long; the Storm and Lightning and Gale, watching the two of them argue.  
  
It was time he rejoined the conversation.  
  
“Boulder!” he called out, “I ask that you hear me out!”  
  
Both River and Boulder stopped to stare at him, their bickering dying down immediately. Without waiting for an answer, the Fire forged on. “We know we are just Spirits! We know we cannot hope to heal one such as yourself unaided. But there is more inside of me than mere Fire.” With a deep breath and a nod from the River, he sank down into his own core. He parted the River’s flow, just the smallest amount, and let the radiance of the far bank spill over. He gasped as his molten eyes flew open, the smallest touch of starlight enough to stagger him. But the River was there, always, keeping him upright, keeping him steady, his touch limiting and focusing and directing the rampant power within him. The two of them stood with the very light of the heavens held between them. They were Power. They were Starlight.  
  
And they would be Enough.  
  
With one voice, they spoke, a thick, crackling hiss in every syllable. “It was this that broke you, Almighty Earth. It can be this that heals you, also. Will you let us try?”  
  
The Boulder looked stunned. Here they blazed, the fury of the stars themselves shining upon their skin. The River had risen up behind them, completely encircling their feet. The cold mountain flow felt remarkable upon their heated skin.  
  
“I…” The Boulder hesitated, looking from their shining form to where the other Spirits stood. In turn, all three nodded, giving their tacit approval of the plan. And so, the Boulder turned back to stare at the River and Fire, combined. Their communion made them difficult to gaze upon but his gemstone eyes met them easily. “I… I cannot lose him, too. Do you understand? Do not let him waste himself on this old, brittle shell. Promise me. Promise.”  
  
And again, they spoke together, voices overlapping. “We will not perish. Your River will be safe.” They stepped forward, outstretched hands coming to rest upon the Boulder’s rough surface. The heat of them cleared away the rain, a great puff of steam leaving his surface bare. They held the starlight between them, ready for his word.  
  
And at last, he gave it. “Then I suppose I… I… accept.”  
  
That was all they needed to hear.  
  
With a cry, they brought their other hands forward, the glowing sphere between them lighting the Boulder’s surface a fierce, fiery red. The heat was immense, the power, enormous, but not enough. No, not nearly.  
  
The River and Fire, the two as one, reached down within themselves, tearing apart the barrier that had harnessed the star’s power. It surged forward, hungry for freedom, and flayed them alive. They screamed, the conduits for a power so much greater than themselves, but they never let go, never faltered for even a moment. The entirety of the Boulder was afire, the heat of them building until he began to crack and smoke and melt down into the brittle soil.  
  
All around them the land burned, their scorching corona enveloping the whole of the green meadow. The other Spirits had long since fled, the Storm and Lightning and Gale observing it all from high above. The River went up in a massive cloud of steam as the entire plain glowed red. The ground shifted, compacted down. Where the Boulder had once been was now a white-hot crater with a focused beam of starlight piercing the center down into the very depths of the planet.  
  
Inside their core, the Fire and River held each other close. The starlight still surged through them with every exhilarating second but they no longer wailed, merely cleaved to each other. Here, there were no words, they were not needed. They felt each other clearly, the calm, the focus, the strain. But so too, the victory, the thrill, the excitement. Ringed through it all, though, was an everlasting love, the tie that connected them, that bound them together for all time.  
  
The Fire held up a hand, palm out and the River matched him, each digit perfectly aligned. They laughed and they triumphed and they rejoiced in one another. And when they reached for the last of their power, they did so with the knowledge that they had prevailed. Against all odds, they had managed the impossible.  
  
There were no words here, they were not needed. But one echoed through their thoughts, nonetheless.  
  
_ “Together.” _ _  
_ _  
_ And so they were.  
  


~~~  
  
_  
Shattered remnants, reunite,  
__Forged now in flame and melted stone.  
__Renewed by Heaven’s Power.  
_  
_  
Bonded souls, the Conduits,  
__Hold steady amidst surging Light.  
__Harness the Crucible within.  
_  
_  
__Reignited entity, Earth,  
__Mighty Elemental, strong,  
__Rejoin your Brethren, wake anew._  
_  
  
__A New Dawn awaits.__  
_  
_  
~~~  
_  
  
“The Reforging of the Earth”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ll have to forgive me for the title of this chapter. While this _is_ named after Elgar’s _Enigma Variations_, I’m specifically thinking of Variation IX, _[Nimrod](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sUgoBb8m1eE)_, as the inspiration for this. I just didn’t wanna title the chapter that, lol. But the piece is absolutely beautiful and really fits the mood here. A light, almost melancholy start that gradually crescendos up and up and up until it reaches an absolutely breathtaking conclusion. To me, this song sounds like triumph after tragedy and that seems ridiculously applicable to what the Boulder/Earth and the Fire are going through here. 
> 
> We’re almost finished now. One final chapter and then an epilogue. We’re getting close! As always, thanks so much for reading! All of you who comment and kudos and bookmark and subscribe, you all mean the world to me. Cheers!
> 
> ~Veil


	10. Un Sospiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is it. Final chapter. Fingers crossed that this goes over well! u^_^

With a heaving shudder that shook the land, the Earth was renewed. Fused by fury and flame, he stirred within his depths, the molten stone at the core of him slithering through his veins, the lifeblood of the planet. An overwhelming awareness followed, an omniscience so long denied him. He could feel it all, every pebble, every speck, every minute piece of himself spread out in every direction. He lived, no longer _ of _ his realm, but _ as _ his realm, the boundary upon which all life rested.  
  
He felt it all upon his skin, the snaking roots growing within his soil, the noble beasts treading upon and within, the touch of the other Spirits flowing over him. As he stretched within his core, rebirthed from the starlight that had formed him at his inception, he delighted in the overwhelming feel of existence.  
  
But as he shook off the dregs of his metamorphosis and surveyed his domain with appraisal, one glaring exception left him shaken. There upon his crust was a desolate stretch, a blackened scar writhing in discontent. Newly-restored, the Elemental gazed upon the remains of the scorched Wood and felt his very soul writhe.  
  
With the haste of his own, turning orbit, the Earth reached out, every sense within him focused on the remains of his cherished son. He could feel him again in the ash, in the dust. He could feel him in his absence, in the lifelessness of his groves. Desperate, he searched for a sign, for an instance of growth there amidst the devastated land. He spread his yawning embrace across the entirety of the Wood, hoping, pleading, longing for what might remain.  
  
And he found him.  
  
The First Tree had long since fallen, returned to the heaving soil in the harsh violence of the Meteorfall. But even so, the Wood was resilient and his Guardian Tree had found at new home at the heart of his forest. There was nothing left of it now but a blackened trunk and a damaged network of roots The Wood himself had burned away in the inferno just as he had time and time again across the ages. But always, he regrew, his resilience matched only by his endless courage. Even now, the Earth could feel him there, resting within the still-hot soil, waiting for the moment he might sprout once more.  
  
He reached out carefully, a tentative brush upon his son’s bright essence. And the Earth Knew him immediately even in his nascent state. It had been so long… Such a long time of not knowing, of being forced to watch, of hearing his cries from far away. To be here now, to be able to touch… But here and now, he was naught but stone and dust, metal and mineral, heat and motion. And though he longed to hold the Wood close, to cradle his beloved son in his arms, he knew he was as of yet too fragile to embrace.  
  
But there would be a time when he could. Until then, until the Wood sprouted again, green and good and whole, he would do his part. He gathered up the mineral-rich ash from his surface and blanketed his child within. And with love and affection, he laid his Kiss upon the ground, the blessing of the Earth ringing him in warmth and health and safety. And with that, he left his son to his rest.  
  
But he was far from finished. There was another who had waited for him far too long.  
  
The Elemental felt out his rocky borders, the ridges and beaches and heights where he abutted the Sea. It took but a moment for him to coalesce, rising up from within himself to stagger his way to their long-forsaken partition. He glowed red-hot in the moonlight and his gemstone eyes blazed with determination. He lurched forward, each step a crystalline peal upon the glassy shore. And he knelt amidst the surf, his Beloved’s cooling waters sending steam rising from the cracks of his facade. He laughed, deep and loud, as he thought of the two who had healed him, the River and Fire, ever ringed in a similar steam. He could feel them at their slumber, cocooned within the monument they had crafted. They slept upon the Earth’s surface, exhausted by their good deed but still so strong in their union. He would not be here without them, would not be able to gaze upon the sweeping beauty of the Sea’s endless waves. He would not have been able to fortify his son in his helpless state, yet again a newborn in a world he had had to relearn so many times already. The Earth would never have been able to rediscover his family were it not for two lowly Spirits and the love they had nurtured between them. They had done so much for him. More than he could ever repay.  
  
As he gazed out upon his Beloved, he felt a joy so full, so powerful, overtake him and he laughed, a joyous grin snapping across his face. And whether it was by those ringing peals or from some other sense, it was then that he felt as the tide began to swell and the waves began to rise. And he knew he had not long before the Sea herself was upon him.  
  
For the briefest moment, he thought to hide, to obscure himself within the glassy sand at his feet. After all, he was old and broken now, brittle in places, cracked through with the remnants of his trials. Would she still want him, damaged as he was? Could she gaze upon his fragmented face and find the Elemental she had bound herself to so long ago? Could she still desire such an assortment of shards?  
  
Frozen in terrified indecision, the Earth remained where he was. For good or ill, he would find out for sure now.  
  
When the Sea finally made landfall she did not hesitate. In a crash of curling waves, she bounded up with foaming crests and splashed down upon him in a watery embrace. He felt her all around, heard the depths of her cries in the roiling surf, and he knew then without question the trueness of her devotion and the love she had harbored in her long, lonely eons. She battered his sedentary form with a furious passion and he met her blows with familiar ease. He held her steady as she crashed upon him, her waters seeping in through his broken crust to meet the molten core of him.  
  
And when finally she calmed, her tumultuous waves abating, he was left with that cherished ocean song singing through his very soul.  
  
He moved back, staring down at her with a sheepish smile, and said, “Well. I’m back. Sorry to have kept you waiting.”  
  
She molded her waves upon his face, her fathomless eyes as deep and alluring as he had remembered in his waking dreams, and replied, “Welcome home.”  
  
And deep within the both of them, their ravaged, broken bond crept back to life, the frayed ends of it snaking out from beneath the rubble. Countless years separated them now and they had grown and changed and overcome in that time. They would have to relearn each other once more. But they had time. They had love.  
  
And they had each other once more.  
  
___________________  
  
  
He could feel her drawing near. He always could. Her radiance spilled across his cold surface and he let himself smile as she illuminated his face. “Beloved,” she whispered, her words an earnest beacon in the dark. It was only she who could turn his gaze away from the desolate Void, only she who could draw him back from his the edge of listless discontent. So beautiful, so cherished, his greatest accomplishment, his truest companion.  
  
But as her blazing eyes met the cold blackness of his own, he could see immediately that she was troubled. “Is something amiss, my dear?” he asked, reaching out to draw her ever nearer.  
  
She went easily, willingly, content to weather his chill with an endearing eagerness. He smiled again as she came to rest against him, the Light personified eclipsed in his reverent hold. She looked up at him with her luminous eyes, her matching adoration piercing through him as it always did, and responded, “Can you feel it, my love?”

He frowned. “Feel what, dearest?”

She was shining, glowing, resplendent in her joy, but her words mystified him. “He who was now is again! We should find him, my love! We must!”  
  
He stared out past her blinding light, gazing upon the small dots of light far off in the distance. He furrowed his brow, confused. She seldom spoke in such riddles with him, and never in ones he could not puzzle out. But her words left him at a loss. He did not understand.  
  
The touch of her hand upon his face drew his gaze back to her. “He is not so far, my love,” she said. “Feel him! He is here!” He did not protest as she turned his gaze down to the land below, but it was not because he desired to see it. No, he would never deny his Sun anything, not even this. Not even to look upon the site of such conflict, of the place where his anger and sorrow reigned in equal measure, the land that sheltered his greatest mistakes.  
  
He stared down at the lush world below, desperate to find that which she was so taken with. She knew so well his troubled heart and would not force this upon him if she did not think it important. But the planet turned as ever, slowly and steadily through the dark reaches that surrounded it. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing required his attention. He turned back to look upon the Sun and spoke his queries with his eyes.  
  
She giggled, her pristine face lighting up even brighter. “Pale Moon, my dearest, my most cherished cold. You have become so lost in your head that you have neglected your heart. _ Feel _ it, my love. Feel the changes wrought. Oh! It has been so, so long!”  
  
He furrowed his brow. “How could I have neglected my heart when you stand right before me, the entirety of it?”  
  
She shook her head. “But that is what haunts you so, Beloved. It is that I am _ not _ all that you love. And I never have been.” She held out her hand, her soft smile soothing the sting of her words. “But I can be your light. Allow me to guide you. Let me help you to _ feel. _Do you trust me?”

“Always,” he said with no hesitation. And what choice did he have but to do as she asked? He grasped her proffered hand tightly, the heat of her flowing all throughout him and deep into his core. He _ did _ trust her. And so, he let her lead him.

It was a heady feeling when they connected fully. He felt the power of her blinding light pouring out from inside him, their forms reflecting and eclipsing each other in a fantastic show. And he felt her there, deep within him, her perception a powerful flash that enveloped him easily. She tugged him forward and then he saw as if through her eyes, shining down magnanimously upon the living land far below. He felt her joy, her happiness in her simple duty. Where she smiled, life bloomed and she savored every touch of it within her rays. 

But even more than that simple euphoria, he felt some deeper glee. There was something… something happening. Something she could feel with more than her element. Curious, he followed the trail, feeling so much younger as he sought this answer. He suddenly and vividly recalled a time Before, when he craved to know all there was, to explore the Void to its fullest and find answers to questions none had ever thought to ask. He had not felt this way in ages, in millennia, but here and now, pulled along by the Sun’s bright light, he felt as if something that had been missing from him was restored. He wanted… to know. 

Swiftly, he met her, surpassed her, _ led _ her. She had given him this push but now he was _ insatiable. _ She had always told him he was unstoppable when he was curious and he certainly felt so. He felt _ powerful. _He felt… renewed. 

And so, after countless eons of nothingness and Void, he finally allowed himself to heed the Sun’s advice. He opened up the tattered remains of his heart and let his feelings guide him. And it felt like _ discovery, wonder, creation. _ He felt _ life _ within him once more. And then, replete with this awareness that had eluded him for so long, the Moon finally felt it. The reasons for the Sun’s sudden intervention. 

The Earth was alive.

So shocked was he that he fell back into himself, once again looking down upon the land with his own eyes. It still looked the same and he wondered how that could be? The eldest of them all, their progenitor, yet lived by some miracle. It seemed as if the whole of the planet should shift with such news, the master of that shattered shell now restored to full. 

He returned to himself in a frenzy of feeling, the temptation of the Void all but forgotten. Without thought he let himself fall, needing to see with his own eyes what his feelings were telling him. He felt the Sun follow in his wake as he descended, their eclipsed light casting a stark pallor across the coast where they alighted.

He saw the Sea there, her great waves surging up with joy. And held with her arms, himself more fractured, more scarred than the Moon’s recollection, knelt the Earth, himself.

It was as if time stood still. The Earth had seen him, his gemstone eyes widened in surprise. And in their reflection, the Moon suddenly felt the weight of his years bearing down upon him. In those eyes, he saw himself, unfiltered and true. A cowardly, gormless shadow standing vapidly upon a land he had avoided for so long. He saw all of his mistakes cast back upon him and now, with his unfeeling defense finally gone, he felt each and every one with a burning acuity. He felt the heartbreak, the desolation, the anger. He felt every moment that had gone by without him, an entire world moving and growing and living as he stagnated. He felt the weight of his abandonment. And he did not know what to do.

He stepped back, frightened, _ terrified _ of his own truths. He retreated until he felt a steady warmth at his back and the Sun’s arms wrapping around him from behind. She held him steady, his most cherished, his Star. So he closed his eyes as one final defense, for he still could not deny her.

“So, you have finally returned.” The low, gravely words were like an ancient memory he could feel within every part of him. “Have you finally tired of neglecting your creations?”

He flinched. It was as if the Earth had taken his deepest shame and turned it back to him. He said nothing.

“Have you finally decided to _ care?” _

Oh, he wished he hadn’t. This would be so much easier to face if he returned to his apathy. In fact, he would not be in this situation at all if he had not followed his _ wretched _heart.

“Do you truly believe you are owed a welcome here, in the place you have abandoned? On my soil, so ravaged by your mistakes? Do you think you deserve a second chance when you cannot even bear to look at me?”

“No,” he said. He did not. He deserved nothing but the ire of his peers. In his own selfishness, he had destroyed everything that had kept them in balance. He had shattered the Earth in his indignation towards his brother, the mighty Elemental made to pay for their mistakes. And though he tried in the aftermath, though he strived to create again, to refill that empty part of him, the hollowness had never abated. And so, he had turned away. He had given up. It was only in his Sun that he found any consolation and she was troubled, herself. 

He let the realization sweep over him. He had failed. He had given up and the whole world had suffered for it. He was to blame. He was culpable. He was just as at fault as the brother he had vanquished. He— 

A solid presence joined the Sun in embracing him. He started, snapping his eyes wide open to regard the mystifying form of the Earth at his front, his ancient, wizened form like a reassurance all around him. The Sea, too, swept up behind him, her swirling waters enveloping them all. He felt the Sun’s joy singing through their bond. “What— What are you doing?” he stammered.

The Earth rumbled in amusement. “I am embracing you, my wayward child. I have so long despaired that you would never return. That your grief would keep you always in your vast, empty sky. I feared that you would never face your part in all of this. But you have. You have and I am proud of you.”

A curious despair welled up within him, jagged and sharp like the ice in his core. He could not accept this. He did not deserve absolution. “You cannot be. I’ve done so much wrong.”

The Earth nodded. “You have. But you can be better now.” He set both sturdy hands upon the Moon’s shoulders and looked him straight in his eyes. “Just because you failed does not mean you are forsaken. You have us. And we’re glad that you’ve come back.”  
  
Beside him, the Sea nodded. “‘We all make mistakes... But a second chance isn’t earned, it’s given.’ A wise Spirit once told me that. And I have found his advice to be sound.”

He heard their merciful words but could not comprehend them, the sentiments of those he had forsaken, neglected, abandoned. His mind, that great, warring mass of ego and pride, rejected them all. It told him that he did not deserve this. That down this path lay folly and heartbreak and betrayal. 

But he felt the Earth surround him, his strong arms a firm bracket he could rest upon. He felt the Sea swelling all around, renewed of the vivaciousness that had left her when the Earth had shattered. And _ always always always _, he felt the Sun shining through him, a bastion of warmth and light that melted the cold inside him. He felt his bond with her holding strong. But so too, he felt the Sea and Earth on the other side, a balancing force that left them all at ease after being so long askew. He felt them all, not with his mind that denied them, but with his heart as the Sun had instructed. 

Together, the Four Elementals restored the harmony between them, embracing each other as they never had before. 

And the Earth looked at them all with a joyous grin and said, “What say you all to a _ true _ reunion, hm? It has been so long. I feel as if we could make something spectacular. We could make something _ together _ this time. What say you?”

The Moon felt a stirring in the light of his soul. Yes, a great working sounded like the perfect way to commemorate this occasion. He turned to them all, that glorious curiosity singing through him. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  
_______________  
  
  
“What do you _mean_ you’re staying here, brother?!” The Lightning’s voice resounded with a sparking bite. “What is _here?! _We— We’re a unit! We all belong together, like we’ve always been! You’re not serious, right?”  
  
The Storm floated silently amidst his clouds, resplendent in their combined squall. The Lightning shrieked and the Gale blew swift and he knew the truth of his brother’s words. Nevertheless, he had made up his mind. When he spoke, it was in time with the thunder rumbling all around, an emphatic declaration. “I am. I will stay for a time. There is… something I wish to take care of before I continue on.”  
  
“And just what would cause would you to deny yourself your freedom, my friend?” the Gale asked, his multi-colored form reflecting starkly in his bondmate’s flares.  
  
The Storm looked down upon the green Earth below, upon the lakes and the meadows and the hills and plains. And he let his gaze linger upon the burnt-out forest, the devastated Wood. He felt it call to him, a plea for aid, for his nourishing rain. And he would heed this call.  
  
He had learned much in the last few days; of cruelty and kindness and the ease with which you could misconstrue one with the other; of mistakes and consequences and the innocent victims of unbridled conflict; of the secrets of stone and the healing potential of flame; of the power of understanding and the strength of love. He had known tragedies and triumphs and emerged all the wiser. And now, when all was said and done, he found there was one last injustice that still beckoned him.  
  
The Storm looked down upon the blackened Earth and the newborn Spirit held within. And he knew his choice had already been made. He smiled. “I have found a place where I am needed. And there is freedom enough in being able to choose that for myself.”  
  
The Gale regarded him, assessment in his gaze. “Perhaps… you are right.” He looked to the Lightning then, the hyperactive Spirit standing eerily still. “What do you think, my love?”  
  
The Storm met his brother’s eyes, the blues and reds of them flashing in time. He was scowling as was usual, and had a stubborn set to his face. The Storm knew this look well. Whatever was next to come from his mouth would certainly be memorable.  
  
“Well, when you phrase it like _that_…” the Lighting began, letting out an irritated huff of wind, “I suppose we’ll have to stay close by, too. After all, I know how lost you would be without me.”  
  
Beside him, the Gale grinned. “_I_ am the one who directs him, remember? You and your showy lights? I daresay he might find peace with them gone.”  
  
“Hey! He _likes_ my ‘_showy lights,’_ you tumbleweed!”  
  
“But he likes _my_ winds better!”  
  
“Oh, go blow somewhere else! Neither of us even like you!”  
  
“You both love me and you know it.”  
  
“Lies! All lies!”  
  
As their usual bickering washed over him, the Storm smiled. He would have stayed, regardless, but having them both here with him? They made his heavy clouds feel light.  
  
As the first rain began to fall upon the ashen ground, the Storm relaxed into the noisy discord of his companions. They had changed so much in the last few days, were stronger for their bond and the love shared between them. But in all ways that mattered, they remained the same.  
  
He would not have it any other way.  
  
_______________________  
  
  
Of the many scars that littered the Earth, two had carved into him the deepest. The first rested deep beneath the Sea, the impact crater that had shattered the land long ago now eroded by water and time, smoothed down to become another seamless piece of the ocean floor. The second, though, was new, still blistering hot, and a constant steam rose from it as the nearby River began to filter in.  
  
In the middle of the steadily-filling reservoir, there at the center where the stone had splashed outward in the intense, concentrated heat, slept the Spirits of River and Fire. They rested soundly beneath the bubbling waves, held tight in each other’s embrace. The renewal of the Earth had taken every last bit of themselves and, in the aftermath of their dazzling display, they had succumbed to a well-deserved rest, depleted and weakened and _victorious._  
  
Overhead, the Eclipse had long since faded from the sky and another full cycle of the Sun and Moon came and went. A steady drizzle fell across the reservoir, the intermittent Storm making sure to check up on them from time to time when he was not otherwise preoccupied.  
  
At last, on the third day, the Fire and River awoke to a new world. The basin surrounding them had filled almost halfway as they slumbered, a stunning new lake now rising to meet the forested shores all around it. The water therein was warmed from the depths, an endless steam coalescing where the ice-cold runoff of the Mountain met the superheated stone. The River could feel the thrum of the Earth flowing through this place like the current surrounding him, the steady churn of life in his depths. He smiled and it matched the Fire’s own.  
  
Reaching out, the River laid a steady hand upon his Beloved’s face, caressing his battle-scarred cheeks with a light, soothing touch. The Fire closed his eyes and leaned into him, shuffling forward to rest his forehead upon the River’s. No words passed between them, every thought, every feeling summed up in the reverence of their actions.  
  
But at last, their curiosity got the better of them and they stood, eager to explore their new resting place. The water around them was scorching hot, especially there on the lakebed where they had driven the starlight straight down into the core of the planet. It was a pleasant sensation to them both, a perfect combination of the water and heat they were comprised of. They rejoiced in this small realm that seemed carved out from the larger pieces of themselves, symbolic of the bond that had formed between them.  
  
With a bubbling laugh, the Fire grabbed a hold of the current, sweeping the both of them up to ride the blistering waters swirling around them. They cried out with joy as they crested the surface, the vibrant pinks and reds and oranges of the setting Sun casting the entire lake in a rainbow of vivid colors. And as they came to stand upon the ever-bubbling surface, they marveled at the changed landscape.  
  
So large was the newly-formed basin that the entirety of the Boulder’s meadow had vanished into its depths. Sparkling obsidian lined the sides of it where molten stone had exploded from the core, the swiftly cooling lava immediately doused by the stream gushing down from the River’s hanging edge. Thermal vents littered the floor of the lake, the superheated water and air bubbling up from them to great effect.  
  
The River watched, entranced, as his own waters spilled down over the lip of the basin. He could feel every part of himself flowing, could feel the changed landscape of his banks and the drying beds further downstream. He had never before felt so… so concentrated in one spot. He had ever been the River, freely flowing, transient and excitable and always changing.  
  
And he still felt so, too. He could still feel the snowmelt from above cascading down from the heights. He could still sense the pools and ponds that had dotted his path and the puddles left in the still-wet mud. He was the River still, forever and always. But here? Here he felt like… he could be something else if he so desired.  
  
He looked to the Fire and found him already staring at him. “You feel it as well, don’t you?” he asked, a shrewd assessment in his eyes. “Not just your River, not just my Fire, but this _place._ Right?”  
  
The River nodded. “It feels like… Like the both of us. Like our soulbond made manifest.”  
  
The Fire grinned. “Is this a place just for us, little puddle? Where exist hot and cold together? Where flame and water meet?”  
  
He stared at the other’s cherished face, at the grin upon his scarred lips and the joy dancing in his eyes. “It seems so, tiny ember. A place of peace and rest. A… home for us.”  
  
The Fire laughed in carefree delight, reaching out to scoop the River up into his flaming arms. He danced with him upon the surface, the two of them spinning round and round beneath the ever-darkening sky. They rejoiced together, embracing the happiness they had found.  
  
But when at last the Fire released him from his hold, a soft, sad grin sat upon his face. “There is peace to be had here, River, of that I am certain. But not fully. Not for me.” He looked down into the star-strewn reflection beneath them, the fulgent glare of the Moon just beginning to peak out from behind the Mountain. “The Earth was not the only one I hurt. My sins are many and reparations must be made where possible. I… I cannot be at peace with such knowledge in my soul. Not even with you at my side, my most cherished.”  
  
The River could see clearly the sincerity and regret shining brightly in his eyes and he nodded, unafraid of their truth. “I know it. And I would never seek to contain you. You have found your freedom at long last and you may do with it what you will.”  
  
A curious expression of both relief and regret passed across the Fire’s face but he nodded, nonetheless. “I… I am sorry, my love. That our peace will have to wait. But this is something I must do.”  
  
The River laughed. “If you ask me, peace is highly overrated. I think it might be fun, actually! I have never ventured too far from my banks before, but, now that I can do _this—”_ He let a burning flame manifest in his open palm. “—I needn’t worry about drying up. This is exciting, isn’t it?”  
  
The Fire looked on, wide-eyed. “W-What are you saying? I just said I need to do this alone, you can’t come with me!”  
  
He frowned. “And just why not? What even _is_ alone to us now when we live within each other?”  
  
“Th-That’s not the point! I am trying to rectify _my_ mistakes, you had nothing to do with them!”  
  
“But I have everything to do with _you,_ Spirit of Fire. Everything I am is yours, Beloved, and everything you are is mine, the good and the bad.” The River enfolded the other within his waters, surrounding him in his tides. “You’re not alone in this and you never will be again.”  
  
The softest embers glowed within the River as the Fire caressed his rippling face and a warm light ringed his small smile. “You’re… right. It’s such a strange sentiment. Alone was all I had for so long. _Alone _and anger and regret. And then you entered my life and changed the entire world in the process. You, who saw something worthwhile in my monstrous form. Who thought to care for the most reviled of all Spirits. Who grew to love me, despite my mistakes.” Crystalline tears fell from his eyes but they were far from despairing. “If I’m to never be alone again, it is all because of you. And I’m… so glad for it. So glad I met you that fateful day. And that it led us to right here, right now, side by side at the dawn of a new era.”  
  
Deep within them, their Bond sang with endless delight, their emotions flowing thick and strong as they held each other close. “I guess that means I’m coming with you after all?” the River laughed.  
  
“It certainly seems like there’s no stopping you.”  
  
“Yes, that’s correct. Mother always said that I could accomplish anything once I’d set myself to a task.”  
  
“That’s a kind way to call you stubborn.”  
  
The River smirked at him. “It is, isn’t it?”  
  
The Fire laughed and shook his head. Then, staring up at the Moon, he said with a delicate solemnity, “And when that stubbornness turns to weariness? What then?”  
  
“Then we return here. To our home. And we rest easy in the peacefulness of it until we venture forth again. And eventually our ventures will end and that peace will be complete. But until then… we will have each other.”  
  
“Well… I can’t say no to that, now can I? That sounds pretty good to me.”  
  
And there upon the bubbling waves, beneath the Moon and his returned regard, atop the scar that healed the Earth, the Fire and the River let their future pull them forward with a hopeful promise.  
  
And as they sank back down beneath the surface, they, the Hot Spring, rested, content.  
  
________________  
  
  
And so it was that years passed and life moved on. The Wood regrew over time, happy and healthy in his father’s arms. He spread far with the aid of the Storm up above and, when at last his borders touched his mother’s shores once more, much rejoicing was had.  
  
The Gale and Lightning accompanied their brother through his years of labor, a constant push and pull that left him ever entertained. And when that was finished, they continued to stay with him more often than not, aiding him in his efforts to nurture the land. From time to time, though, the echoing thunder would sound through the wind as they explored off on their own, free to do as they pleased and very much willing to.  
  
The Fire roamed always, his beloved at his side, tending to the world in his own way. The starlight he had stolen so very long ago was now nothing but a pleasant warmth within him, its power all but depleted in the Renewal. But within the Earth’s core, some flares still existed, and the Fire took great care to track them down when they escaped.  
  
The River stayed always at the Fire’s side, eager to see the scope of the world for the first time in his existence. Together, they traveled far and wide, helping where they could but, more often than not, merely enjoying the journey. And when they grew weary, the River always drew them back to their Springs where they rested happily in each other’s embrace.  
  
The Sun and Moon continued on, fulfilled in each other’s orbit. But no longer did the Moon neglect his realm and he walked often upon the planet’s surface with his beloved star at his side. In time, he would encounter the River and Fire on their own journey and, though tensions remained high and old grievances were slow to heal, eventually they managed to find a nascent peace between them.  
  
And through it all, as ages came and went and the Spirits lived out their days, the last gift of the Elementals stirred. Clumsy and vulnerable at first, they grew more able and more plentiful with each passing day. And in them was embodied every aspect of creation: the Sun’s warmth and joy, the Moon’s logic and curiosity, the Sea’s flexibility and potential and the Earth’s sturdiness and valor. The Spirits fostered them as they grew, as they became the stewards of the planet, and they multiplied rapidly as they harnessed the land.  
  
And so it was that the Elementals created the land, the Spirits below nourished it and the newborn Humanity sustained it.  
  
And all of it because two Spirits had found the courage to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is taken from Liszt’s _[Un Suspiro](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L42sbnQxEmw)_ (Italian for “A Sigh”). For as long as I’ve been writing this fic, this has been the song I always imagined as the sort of “end credits.” The cascading arpeggios and gentle melody really invoke a feeling of finality for me. Of sudden, rapid movement easing through itself to settle peacefully. One last sigh before the send off. I think this song works so well with every section of this chapter. 
> 
> Now, this _is_ the final chapter, so... For all of you who helped me and encouraged me and gave me feedback on this probably-too-ambitious project, thank you so much. I’d especially like to (again) thank [alettepegasus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alettepegasus/pseuds/alettepegasus), who has continued to be an amazing friend and support all throughout the process of writing this. Thank you for all your help, even when I made it particularly difficult for you. 
> 
> Not a lot left to say except… Thank you to each and every one of my readers. Here we are at the end. It’s been a ride. I’ll be posting up the epilogue soon, too, but as for this story? Yeah, it’s finished. I hope you all found a little something to enjoy here. I’ve certainly had my ups and downs while writing it, but… Well, that’s just part of the journey, isn’t it? I wouldn’t change it for the world. Once again, thank you all. 
> 
> ~Veil


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Language
> 
> (It’s only for this single chapter and has nothing to do with the main storyline, so I’ve decided to keep this story at a G rating. But this chapter qualifies as T, just for some of the colorful language, lol.)

“What do you have there, sweetums?”  
  
Closing the door behind him, Connor watched as Gavin adorably scrunched his face up in disgust, making gagging noises at the endearment. “For fuck’s sake, Connor. Please, babe, I’m _ begging _ you: stop with the stupid-ass names!”  
  
The android couldn’t seem to help the smirk stealing its way across his face nor the repressed chuckles he was very obviously trying to muffle. “I have no idea what you mean, my little alley cat.” His LED flashed yellow at his temple, a surefire giveaway of his mirth even if Gavin _ hadn’t _ already been eyeing him with poorly-concealed distrust.  
  
The man scowled up at him. “Fine then, _ pookie—” _ A loud snort fell from Connor’s lips as he quickly brought his hand up to hide his smile. “—have it your way, then. Fuckin’ asshole, keeping this shit up...”  
  
As Gavin trailed off into annoyed grumbling, Connor finally couldn’t seem to contain himself any longer, letting out a gregarious laugh as he sank down onto the cushion beside his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the smaller man as he hid his face in his shoulder.  
  
Seemingly despite himself, Gavin’s own lips creaked upwards, too, as he brought his arm around Connor’s waist, pressing a soft kiss onto the still-blinking LED at his temple. “You really need to stop listening to Hank’s shitty ideas, Con. He’s a bad influence.”  
  
With a muffled huff, Connor sat up straight, though still close enough to keep Gavin in his embrace. “You love his ideas and you know it, darling. I think I will continue my research on terms of endearment. I’ve had great success thus far.”  
  
Gavin just shook his head and Connor grinned. Score one to the android.  
  
“No, but really, what do you have there?” Connor reached over, pulling the orange-covered book over to rest in between them. He frowned down at the title. “‘_Primordial Tales: Echoes of the Past?’ _ Gavin… Do I even _ want _ to know?”  
  
“Hey! This bullshit ain’t _ my _ idea! My stupid fuckin brother sent it to me for some goddamn reason.”  
  
Connor stared down at it, letting his eyes unfocus like they always did during a scan. But the initial results were rather disappointing. “I… have no record of this book in any existing registry. Is it custom made?”  
  
Gavin shrugged, flipping over the cover. “Beats me. I just found it on the doorstep when I got home. That _ prick _ left a hoity-toity little note with it. Some more bullshit about ‘expanding my horizons’ and ‘finding beauty in nature’ and all that fuckin Zen shit he goes nuts for.”  
  
Connor took the book fully, quickly flipping through the contents. In a matter of minutes, he had scanned the entirety, though he still looked perplexed. “Poems…” he said in a whisper. “Elijah Kamski sent _ you _ a book of poetry?”  
  
“Hey! Don’t sound so fuckin shocked! I can enjoy that bullshit if I want to!”  
  
“...Gavin, I thought you were mad about it.”  
  
A moment of silence. “...I am! Cause Eli’s a prick! Here, gimme that!”  
  
Connor released the volume easily, struggling with not finding his boyfriend’s nonsensical display endearing. He loved how contrary humans could be. Especially _ this _ human. He watched as Gavin turned to a random page, his brows drawing lower and lower in consternation as he read. By the end, he was outright scowling again and Connor had to bite his lip to keep from grinning.  
  
“What the fuck!?” the brunet yelled. “This shit doesn’t even rhyme!”  
  
Connor helpfully chimed in: “It seems to be a translation of various author’s takes on these myths and legends. Perhaps they rhymed in their original forms?”  
  
Gavin just huffed. “What the fuck next? He gonna start sending me some shit to improve my chakras? A fuckin rock garden for my desk? Some bullshit vegan starter-pack? Jesus, he’ll probably wrap them all up in yoga pants and sweat bands.”  
  
Connor chuckled. “I think it’s sweet. It’s a good sign that he’s still interested in improving your relationship, my love. At least a gift means he’s still trying.”  
  
“...Yeah, I know.”  
  
“Besides—” Connor cross-referenced one of the passages he had scanned. “—'_Between the two there rested so, a Bond so deep and consuming. For it was in loving one another, that the World was made anew.’ _ I think I rather like these verses.”  
  
Gavin looked skeptical. “Oh yeah? Who’s it talking about?”  
  
“The main protagonists of the book. It seems this is a love story.”  
  
“Jesus. All the more reason to use it as a doorstop.”  
  
Connor laughed, not at all taken in by Gavin’s contrariness. He knew how much the man secretly indulged his romantic side. The fact that he felt the need to keep up his tough guy act around _ his boyfriend _ of all people was hilarious. Leaning back against the arm of the couch, Connor stretched out, letting on leg fall to rest on the floor. He patted the space in front of him, beckoning. “Come now, Gav. I can read to you for awhile?”  
  
His preconstructions calculated the results of success at 94%, though his timing was thrown off by Gavin acting like he was doing him a huge favor by acquiescing. But finally, the smaller man settled down there in the vee of his legs, leaning against the cushioned plastic of his chassis. Connor smiled as he rested his head atop his boyfriend’s, bringing one arm up to wrap around Gavin’s torso and the other to hold the book steady with dexterous fingers. _ “‘From the first moment was the Earth…’” _  
  
He read for a long time [**56.33 min**], long enough that Gavin’s body began to settle heavily upon him, his eyes long-since closed. Connor felt his breath like a sigh upon his neck and, letting the book rest upon his leg, he threaded his free hand through his love’s hair. “So? Have you reached a verdict?”  
  
Gavin cracked a gray eye open, disarmed and honest in a way he so rarely was. Connor loved to see it. “That River guy is alright, I guess.”  
  
Connor let his temple rest against Gavin’s as he sank further down upon the couch. “Oh really? I was quite taken with the Fire, myself.”  
  
Gavin snorted. “Yeah, whatever. We both know you have bad taste in dudes.”  
  
Connor laughed. “It’s true. That’s why I’m here, after all.”  
  
It took some maneuvering for Gavin to punch him, especially as boneless as he was, but he still managed. “Hey, watch it or I’ll make you go camp out with Hank and his monster dog.”  
  
“Sumo would like you better if you petted him, Gavin.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.”  
  
For a moment, the two of them drifted in silence, all Gavin’s flailing causing him to rest more comfortably against Connor. But he broke the quiet once more. “I guess… it’s not so bad. That stupid book. I dunno where the fuck Eli got it, but it’s… It’s not complete shit.”  
  
Wrapped around his beloved as he was, Connor rather felt like a certain character in that moment. Especially with the warmth that filled his synthetic heart. “We can read more later, my love. I’m glad you like it.”  
  
Connor was fully prepared to stay where he was for the rest of the night, the warm weight of his detective settled over him. He made sure to keep his body at the optimal temperature for Gavin’s comfort. But just as he felt his sensors relaxing, right when Gavin was on the verge of real sleep, the human muttered one last thing. “But the Moon can go fuck himself, though.”  
  
Connor’s laughter rang out into the evening air as Gavin smirked into the crook of his neck.  
  
Perhaps sleep could wait just a moment more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go, this is finished for real now. Gosh, what a journey this has been. This epilogue was certainly a departure from the entire rest of the fic, but I do rather like how it turned out. Hopefully, it doesn’t disappoint. u^_^
> 
> I’d like to thank everyone that stuck through this with me, I really appreciate the reviews and the kudos and bookmarks and subs! I’ve loved interacting with some of you in the comment sections, I really appreciated the opportunity to talk even more about my work. Of course, big shoutout to [alettepegasus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alettepegasus/pseuds/alettepegasus). You're the best, dude.
> 
> And, though this chapter isn’t named for a classical piece like all the others, I just wanna go ahead and highlight the _[Journey OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3hFN8UrBPw&t=4s)_, which I wrote a tremendous amount of this fic to. When I wasn’t listening to the classical pieces, it was this soundtrack that I had playing. It was just so perfect for the mood and tone and I highly recommend it to anyone. Give it a listen and experience the journey yourself. ^_^
> 
> (And, I'd just like to reiterate how amazing _[The Lark Ascending](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZR2JlDnT2l8)_ is. Such a magnificent piece.)
> 
> And with that, I’m done. Once again, thank you to everyone who took a chance on this one! I appreciate you all so much! Best wishes!!
> 
> ~Veil


End file.
